


Water That's Thicker Than Blood (That's Deeper Than Love)

by Joy_in_the_House, MinervaNorth



Series: Something of Home [21]
Category: Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Christmas, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Fluff, Hospitals, Medical Jargon, Pickpockets, Weddings, Whump, firehouse shenanigans, good vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 64
Words: 291,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joy_in_the_House/pseuds/Joy_in_the_House, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinervaNorth/pseuds/MinervaNorth
Summary: "When I am blind, in my mind, I swear they'd be my rescue, my lifeline." ~ Family by The Chainsmokers & KygoWith Greg and Kate finally married, and Kelley on the upswing, the extended first responder family has finally started to heal. Not just that, but they thrive.Both Kelley and Crockett start their (separate) flings, while Greg and Kate start to build their lives from the ground up, together.As their little family continues to grow, they know no matter what, they'll stick together—through the changes, through the ups and downs, and through the little surprises along the way.
Relationships: Crockett Marcel & Original Female Character(s), Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz & Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Original Male Character(s)
Series: Something of Home [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1640515
Comments: 33
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue: We Run Together

**October 12, 2019** **  
** **0032 Hours** **  
** **Molly’s Pub, Chicago  
****Crockett**

I can’t believe we all made it this far. 

As the night has winded down, and many of the guests have gone home, only a few of us are left. Kate and Mouse, they refuse to sit down, still dancing together on the other end of the bar. It’s all they can do just to look at each other. 

Jay and Will, they mill about one of the side tables, drinking together, as brothers do. It looks pleasant, but heated. Makes me smirk. Sylvie left a while ago, exhausted from the night, relieved that the event went on without a hitch. 

And then… you have Kelley. And damn, does that girl have energy. In fact, I don’t think she’s sat down all night. Right now, she spins and spins until her feet give out, nearly falling to the ground. And the one she’s dancing with, a one Thomas Rasmussen, has supported her before she’s given the chance to completely drop. 

I smirk. She didn't quite expect him to be right there, I can see it on her face. 

I see a content smile. An easy happiness. 

I haven't seen that, not this much, in a long time. 

I take another drink. 

She's dancing with Timmy, or whatever she calls him, and I realize something. 

Something fundamental. 

Six months ago, she almost wasn't here. 

She almost wasn't here, almost didn't have the chance to dance with the man that - I'm pretty sure - she loves. 

There's a lump in my throat. 

Kelley's spinning again, under Tommy's arm and around him. 

My sister… She almost missed this. She almost missed this. 

She was so low, low enough I could have lost her. 

And now? She's dancing with her man at her best friend's wedding. 

I don't even realize the tears until one hits my lip. The sudden saltiness surprises me, and I take a long drink of my bourbon as I contemplate the fact my sister has come so far.

As I watch her, I feel a gentle smile. And the tears, bittersweet, but there nonetheless. 

I watch her, feeling nothing but love and gratitude that she's here. 

She's living. 

And I get to watch her. 

I swipe a hand under my eyes, but they keep coming. I shouldn't do this, I shouldn't be crying at my friends' wedding, it's bad luck. I can't stop it, though. 

“C’mon, ‘Kett, whatchya cryin’ for?”

Kate nearly slams against the bar, smiling wide. I know she isn’t drunk, but she’s slipping pretty close to tipsy. She reaches forward and wipes the tears from my eyes.

“No more cryin’. C’mon. Come dance with me.” She presents me her hand, waiting for me to get up. 

When Kate calls, I answer. Anything for my little sisters.

I take her hand, bowing slightly to her. 

"May I, Mrs. Gerwitz?"

Her face pales a little. She stops for a moment, like she’s considering what I just called her. 

“You know… that’s… you’re the first person to say that to me. Not… not an announcement, not… not at an altar. You’re… you’re the first.”

I pause, and I study her for a second. 

"Then let me congratulate you, Kaitlyn Gerwitz," I whisper as I pull her into a hug. She clutches me tightly as the song changes. When I listen closely, I chuckle. Kelley must have stolen the AUX cord, as she does. 

And with that, she pulls me close, her hands around my neck, and she’s gotten me to dance with her. 

“You’ve gotten me to dance, Katie Kat.”

“I know, and I’m not sorry,” she says smugly. “I don’t even know this song… Kelley picked this, right?”

I can’t help but sing. “I’ll never settle down, that’s what I always thought. Yeah, I was that kind of man, just ask anyone…”

“Aww, Crockett,” she hums. “Are you considering how you ended up here, in Chicago? Never thought you would settle down, hmm?”

I smile softly. 

"Kate, darlin', two years ago I was still a management stick in the mud, and I'm here. Miles from my hometown, but I've found home." 

I squeeze her tight as we dance.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers, and I see her glancing to Kelley. “Didn’t know… I didn’t think… it was touch and go there for a while,” she finally lands on.

I follow her gaze, and my eyes well up once more of their own accord. 

"She's here now," I say, but I'm not quite sure if it's meant for Kate or myself.

“‘Kett…. ‘Kett. Is she… is she _ flirting _ with him? What the actual fuck? Oh. _ Oh. _Crockett. Oh, God. She’s… no. We have to do something.”

I glance back, and I mutter something under my breath, and even I don't really pay attention. Probably something about how I'll kick ass to protect my sister. 

"Kate, we have to- we need to do something," I whisper urgently.

“I’ll take the boy, you get that sister of yours, alright? Ready, break,” she says, making her way over to the dumbfounded kid. Without a second thought, she grabs his hand and makes him dance with her instead. He gives Kelley a shrug, but he knows he can’t deny the bride.

"Sure then," I mutter as I move towards Kelley. "Love her, feed her, practically adopt her but the moment something happens she’s _ my _sister, not ours. Sure, then." 

I take Kelley's hand and pull her aside. 

"Kelley, what are you doing? Why are you flirting?" I ask, trying to keep my voice low. 

She looks confused, the little adorable idiot. 

"Fine, play innocent," I whisper, crossing my arms. "Kelley, you're _ flirting _."

She stares at me. "No," she says slowly. "I'm not." 

"Kelley-" I'm honestly shocked by how she doesn't realize it. "This?" I wave my hand at her, at Tommy. "That is flirting." 

"Oh," she nods. "Then yes. Yes, I was." She gives me a quick, easy, almost carefree smile. "Problem?" 

I'm struck by how happy she looks, and she takes that moment to escape. 

I'm left at the edge of the dance floor, staring after her, wondering if she's thought this flirting thing through. I look to Kate. She says nothing to this Tommy—all she does is stare at him, with a slight smirk on her lips, as she dances with her teammate. 

He looks incredibly uncomfortable. Until Kelley comes back for him, grabbing him as the song ends, and then going to the AUX cord after looking around the room.

“Alright, we gotta spice this night up,” Kelley calls out, pausing the music. Oh, no. This is going to be very good or very bad. “Kate, gimme a pitch.”

“Kelley, what are you doing—”

“Pitch me!”

Kate seems to find a pitch out of the air and hums before Kelley finds it too. 

“There was a bog; a rare bog, was a great bog, a rattlin’ bog, ‘twas down in the valley-o!”

Kate already starts laughing and whooping. She looks delighted. She looks—they both look—alive. 

“Ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog, the bog down in the valley-o, ho, ro, the rattlin’ bog, the bog down in the valley-o!” Kelley sings out. Wow. I’ve known her for… for this long, and she’s never truly belted out like this. Her soulful alto gives the Irish song almost a blues feel.

“In that bog, there was a hole, a rare hole, a rattlin’ hole. Hole in the bog and the bog down in the valley-o!” Kelley gets into the chorus, and Kate starts singing harmony. And with that, the bar comes alive. Mouse starts clapping alongside Jay and Will, who look at each other with wide eyes. 

And Kelley… Kelley is in her prime, leading the group in the song they had called a sobriety test how many months ago. 

Kelley's drilled me enough that I know the entire chorus. I can't get much further than that. 

Well, I can, but I enjoy her singing it too much.

She gets all the way to the feather on the chick, and the chick in the egg… and the bog down in the valley-o before I realize Tommy is singing the chorus along with her, too. And he’s devising his own harmonies on top of Kelley’s and Kate’s. And she notices, and her eyes light up.

I’ve never seen her eyes light up like that.

Carefully, she takes his hand, and he lifts her up onto the top of the bar, so she can sit on it like she does every counter top she can find. Now, with her above the rest, she can continue her song, with the attention of everyone left in the bar, but namely, the attention of the young man in front of her.

I think that one is going to be a handful.


	2. The Odds Are Stacked Against Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The outbreak in Chicago threw everyone off their game. Kelley watches Crockett unravel, but can she help him break out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formerly published under the title "Maelstrom."

**October 19 2019  
** **1940 Hours  
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center  
** **Crockett**

Let me sleep. I glance at my watch, realizing I have twenty minutes left. Then I still have to drive home. Kelley is at home.

I blink. I'm standing up. But I could have sworn I'd fallen asleep.

I check my watch. Eighteen minutes until I can go home.

Kelley's at home. I take a deep breath. I hand off the care phone. I just need to sleep and I'll be fine. 

If Kelley was here she would yell at me for even _thinking _of driving but all I need is a five minute nap in the car and I'll be ready to go.

I'm trying not to think about the last 72 hours. The moment I do, I know it's game over.

So I try not to.

I get my things on autopilot. When I blink dumbly, my head resting on my locker, I know I need to get it together. I check the clock. 

I have enough time. I set an alarm for five minutes and I sit down.

I blink awake and shut the alarm off. I almost feel worse.

A thought pushes at my mind. No. I will not think about today.

I pick up my bags, brushing past April Sexton. 

As an afterthought I call behind me "Well done today."

I don't hear her response. My car is barely visible in the fading dusk, and the shadows from the garage support don’t help. It's near the end of the lot, and my legs are beginning to refuse their working conditions. 

There's one moment I'm forced to lean on a light pole. I'm so damn exhausted. I assess my car before I approach.

No vehicles directly on either side. Nothing out of the ordinary. By second nature, I circle my car before unlocking the driver side door. 

I get in, locking the door immediately. Some habits never leave you, apparently. I took my five minutes inside, so I skip straight to starting the engine. 

Gentlemen, start your engines, I think and I snort a laugh. I idle it for a moment before backing out of the space. As I begin to drive out, my eyelids begin to weigh heavy.

I force them open. And I step on the brakes. I'm three feet from the barrier on the edge. _Three feet. _

I turn off the car, and my hands are shaking. I know now I can't drive. Maybe I can ask one of the others for a ride. As I yank my bag out of the car I make my decision. 

Bus it is. I won’t bother the others. The external stairway is dark, and takes me through the alley. 

I never even see him come up behind me. And when I’m shoved face first into the wall, I’m too stunned to even lash out. 

* * *

I can't breathe, but I can't stop coughing. My throat is burning, and I'm in pain. I can feel the hand print around my throat.

He's gone. 

My bag is on the ground. Untouched. I wish I could say the same for me.

Everything hurts.

Kelley. She's not… She's not here. She’s at home. Not here. Good.

I push myself up off the ground. I'm still in the alleyway. I don't want to know. My legs strike. I land on my knees and I check myself over.

My clothing is intact. My breath hitches painfully. Is it bad I'm relieved?

Memories are sucking me down in the undertow. I need to get home. Kelley is at home. 

I need to get home.

I stumble to my feet and it takes my entire energy reserve to pull my bag behind me. I hail a taxi. I can't take the bus like this.

I'm in my building's hallway. I fumble for my keys. I need to hide this from Kelley.

She can't know. I get the door open, and I feel nothing but numb.

* * *

**Kelley**

Today is a rare day off from both jobs, and I find myself lazing on the couch.

Crockett's day shift rotation seems to be working fine now that we usually both go in for the same times, albeit different jobs.

But the last few days have been hell for him. This whole outbreak problem? He's run off his feet and I hate it.

I'm bored of the trash on TV and the blanket over my legs is making me feel just cozy enough. I check the clock.

Crockett was supposed be home forty minutes ago. After the three days he's had, I can't help but worry. 

I don't know what his state of mind will be. Nothing good, I'm sure.

I think back to the phone call from this morning. 

_My phone rings from beside my bed, and I can’t help but wake. I check the clock. 2 a.m._

_I fumble for my phone, squinting at the light but answering the second I see Crockett’s picture._

_“‘Kett? Are you okay?”_

_There’s nothing but a heavy sigh on the other end, and my stomach drops. _

_“Crockett, talk to me,” I say, not caring that there’s desperation in my voice._

_“I saved someone,” he says dully, and I realize this is the first person who hasn’t died on his table since this maelstrom of hell started._

_“I’m so proud of you,” I say, and I hear a half-scoff on the other end._

_“Thanks,” he says finally. “Listen, Kel, Halstead and that CDC woman says this is almost done. I should be home soon. Tomorrow, maybe.”_

_Thank God, I think._

_“Be safe, Crockett,” I say, and I can almost hear his stiff nod. _

_The call ends, and I lay in bed in the dark, wishing this never happened._

I've only just put my head down and closed my eyes when I hear the door open. 

He steps through, dropping his bag by the door. 

When Crockett turns around I see the discomfort on his face.

I don't register the bruise right away, but when I do, he sees it. His face sort of crumples, and he goes to escape to the kitchen. 

"Crockett no, come here." I tug him over on the couch beside me, and he sits down heavily. 

My heart is hammering and I'm forcing myself to stay calm.

"Who did this?" I ask softly, and he hums noncommittally.

I stand up and come back with an ice pack. He flinches when I place it gently to his eye, but says nothing. 

I haven't seen him shut down like this since the outbreak, and it scares me. 

He closes his eyes, and his head leans back against the couch. As his breathing evens out, I know he's falling asleep. 

I take a moment to study the damage, and I feel sick at the angry bruising around his eye. 

He's still bundled in his coat and scarf, too exhausted to pull them off once he got home.

I take a moment to unwind the scarf from around his neck and I pull away. 

The bruising around his neck has me running into the kitchen, and I find myself bent over the sink as I'm sick. 

The tears streaking from my eyes are falling into the hair in my face, and I can only be sick for a moment.

I take a second to collect myself before moving back to the couch. 

I gently slip the scarf away, swallowing hard as I try not to look at the bruise. 

I ease the jacket off his shoulders, and he cries out as I pull it down his arm. I stop, seeing his face screwed up in pain. 

I don't want to wake him. I don't want to know.

But I need to. 

My hand rubs his gently.

"Crockett," I call lowly, and he stirs, his hand coming up to shield his face. 

I feel sick. Something happened.

He wakes up fully, seeing me and he scrambles back against the arm of the couch. 

He realizes his neck is exposed and he pales. When I reach out, he rears back, a panicked look on his face.

I stop, and I feel like I've been stabbed in the gut.

I try to stop him but he's gone. Locked in the bedroom. 

I'm stunned. 

I fumble with my phone and text Lanik. 

_Was Marcel doing okay when he left?_

My phone buzzes with a reply.

_I wasn't able to catch him before he left. He's been going for three days._

I stare at the bedroom door. I can hear ragged breaths and I move closer, phone forgotten.

"Crockett," I say, frightened now. 

I hear only a sob. 

I try the door. 

I know it's locked but I know there's a trick. 

There's another sob, and I work faster. 

"Crockett, come here, honey," I call, trying to get his attention and distract him while I slip the lock.

All decorum and hesitation goes out the window the second I hear something heavy hit the floor.

I rear back and slam into the door with all my weight. 

Twice more and the door gives way, and all I see is my brother curled on the floor by the window. 

I come near and he throws up his shaking hands in front of his face. 

I stop where I am. 

"Go away," he rasps, and his voice is almost gone. 

I’m shocked, and then remember he hasn’t spoken since he got in the door. 

Oh God, no. 

He backs himself into the wall as I come near. I'm almost sick again when he bites back a cry as I lay my hand on his knee. 

"What happened?" I ask softly, and he shakes his head. 

I see his phone on the bed and grab it, punching in a phone number. 

The man in front of me recoils when he realizes what I'm doing, but that doesn't even come close to the fear I have now.

And the anger. 

Who ever touched him will pay.

"Dr. Marcel?" 

I hear Lanik’s voice and I speak up. 

"Dr. Lanik, it's Kelley. You're off, right?"

"Yeah I am." I can hear sudden concern in his voice.

I breathe a sigh in relief, but this ain’t over yet.

"I need you here," I say. "At the apartment."

Lanik says no more but he hangs up when I hear a door close.

Crockett shudders as I inch closer. 

"I'm not going to hurt you, 'Kett," I tell him. 

"I know," he says wearily. "I can't help it."

He tentatively reaches his hand out, and I take it gently. He looks conflicted. 

"Crockett, I'm here," I tell him.

"Don't leave," I hear him say under his breath. 

Like hell I’d leave.

We stay like that, him gripping my hand from a painfully far distance until I hear Lanik coming through the front door. 

"Kelley?" I hear him call, caution in every word. 

"In the bedroom," I say, pain lancing my heart when Crockett cringes at my raised voice. 

"Sorry,” I whisper, thumb brushing over the back of his hand in apology.

Dr. Lanik stops in the doorway.

"Sweet Holy Lord," he breathes from where he's standing. 

I turn and almost don't recognize him outside of the hospital, especially in street clothes, his car keys still dangling in his hand.

I see him take a breath, steeling himself for what he has to do.

I can only imagine what’s going through his mind, and I sent a silent apology to Crockett once more. I hate bringing in anybody if he doesn’t want them, but I have no choice.

And I trust Lanik with my life. So does he.

He moves closer, ignoring Crockett's sudden flinch backwards.

He just kneels down in front of him, trying to make eye contact and making sure Crockett can see him at all times.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Marcel," he says as his fingers gently touch the marks on Crockett's neck.

I feel his grip on my hand tighten, and he lets his eyes close resignedly.

* * *

**Crockett **

Kelley is the one thing keeping me from giving up and booking it out the door.

I keep my eyes closed. 

Why did she call Lanik?

Why is it someone from work who has to see this?

I'm not some kid who has to be babysat. 

I'm thirty seven damn years old.

I wince as a particularly tender bruise is prodded, and I want to push Dr. Lanik away.

Kelley's hand traps mine, though. 

I want to scream. I can’t. 

I've been reduced to nothing more than a mugging victim. 

This isn't who I am. I am -- I _was _more than this.

* * *

**Kelley**

I only feel rage. Rage and a broken heart. 

I can't watch as Lanik cleans up the bruises and cuts on Crockett's neck and arms. 

I can only hang onto his hand in both of mine. I can still the trembling, even only for a minute.

"Kelley, meet me in the living room," Lanik suddenly says, and my first instinct is to fight him. 

"No" I say, frightened. "What's going on?" 

"Kelley," he says again, looking me in the eye. 

"Now."

I squeeze Crockett's hand once before regretfully letting go.

I retreat to the living room but can't quite bring myself to sit down.

Lanik comes from the bedroom. 

His face is serious, more so than normal, and I feel sick.

He bites his lip before telling me, "I tried to get him to agree to come to Med."

"He refused," I finish, and he nods.

"East Mercy too?" 

He nods. 

"Jimmy," I cry, "What's happening?" 

He reaches out at my outburst and pulls me into his side. 

He's only hugged me twice before, but I feel like I'm not alone.

I have so many questions, but I know he has even less answers than I do.

There’s one question I have to ask, and I don’t want to. But I have to know.

“Jimmy,” I say, my voice deathly still. “Do you think that whoever did this, they-” 

He stops me with a hand over my mouth. He knew where my question was heading.

“Don’t,” he says sharply, harshly. “Do not think of that. Don’t do it, Kelley.”

“That’s not a no,” I gasp through a sob, and my world is shattering because if Crockett had suffered that-- 

“He wouldn’t let me check,” he says, and I’m not surprised by that. 

“There’s no evidence of it,” Lanik says finally, his voice carrying the world’s unfortunate weight.

I strangle my sob in his shoulder, and I’d fall if he wasn’t gripping me so tight.

I can feel him struggling, too.

"I'm keeping this off the books, Kel," he says in something close to a whisper. "I can do that, for now. I can hold this off of him for now.”

I almost cry, and then he says something else that does make me cry.

"I'm giving him two weeks off for now, okay?" He looks away and his arms tighten.

"If you need more, call me. He has enough vacation for a month." 

"Jimmy," I say quietly. "Thank you."

He nods. "Let's take care of our boy, Kelley." 

I laugh wetly, wiping away fresh tears.

"He's older than you, Lanik." 

He chuckles.

I know he does care the world for Crockett. I see the same look in Lanik’s eyes as I’m sure that’s in mine. 

Shining with not only a professional regard, but also the admiration of an older brother.

Whether Crockett realizes it or not, he has family in his corner.

We stay that way for a few moments.

"Call if you need me," he says before he leaves, and I very nearly start crying again.

I sit down on the couch. 

I'm still for all of ten minutes before the anxiety takes over and I poke my head into the bedroom.

Crockett is sitting on the bed, scrub shirt off and in his hand. 

His white tank top is soaked in sweat, and he looks so alone.

He looks… fragile. 

And that scares me more than anything else.


	3. You've been lonely too long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley decides to call the one person who's helped before when things get bad: Kate Cavanagh. And Crockett learns quickly of the friend he had in front of him all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formerly published under the title "Maelstrom."

**October 26, 2019  
** **1656 Hours  
** ** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
**** ** **Kelley** **

It's been a week, and he's said maybe three words to me. 

And I'm scared.

I remember how bad I was after my attack, over a year ago. 

He helped me. He kept me going. 

But now he's pushing me away. 

I shouldn’t feel hurt, but I sort of do.

I'm scared to sleep for too long in case he gets an idea in his head and takes off.

In case he needs me.

But nothing's happened. 

He missed the scheduled appointment he was supposed to have with Dr. Charles, and I covered for him on the phone. I told them he was sick. 

Lanik has been by a couple of times, and he never says it outright, but I can tell he's worried. 

I'm at the end of my rope. 

So I pick up the phone and call the one person who might be able to get through to Crockett. 

"Kate? I need you."

Her voice comes through first jovial, and then, when she finally considers my tone, she shifts.

_“Kel! How are—what happened? Where are you?”_

"I'm at home." God, my voice is cracking. I don't know if I can say it.

I hear Kate say something out of earshot of the phone speaker, and then the jingling of keys. 

_“I’m on my way.”_

I sigh in relief, or is it a sob? 

I can't tell.

I know I'm shaking.

_“Talk to me, Kelley. Tell me what’s going on.”_

"It's Crockett," I sob, and I can't say anything further. 

_“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Breathe. Is he hurt? Do you need to call someone for him?”_

There are so many questions. Yes he's hurt, I want to say. No there's no one to call. 

I stutter as much out.

As much as she tries to struggle to understand, Kate has a battle-mind, and jumps quickly to the triage.

_“Okay, you need to call 9-1-1 if he’s hurt,”_ she says. 

"No!" I cry. 

I have to breathe for a second so I can stop crying, and the silence drags. 

_“Oh,”_ Kate whispers. It seems to click, and her mind shifts into a different sort of triage. _“I’m crossing 90. Three minutes.”_

I can only nod, then whisper a "okay" when I remember she can't see me. 

I need her here, and she's close by. 

I can't even talk. I'm too afraid. I’m spiraling and I can’t stop. I can’t do this, I need to stay strong.

_“Gimme a sec. Parking. Get ready to buzz me up,”_ she says, and I hear a car door slam and heavy footsteps.

I move to the door, and I'm shaking. I hate myself for it. 

She barely hits the buzzer, and I catch it as fast as she touches it. I don’t know how fast she can run nine flights of stairs, but I know she can move fairly fast. The elevator is a non-starter. She would have a panic attack before it hit floor two.

I sink to the floor while I wait. I have to. 

In a span of time that feels almost inhuman, there’s a single, heavy knock on the door.

“Kel, I’m here.”

I reach up and yank the handle, and Kate almost falls in the door.

"Kate," I whisper. 

Kate gently but quickly pulls me to my feet. She’s still in action mode. “Where is he? What’s going on?”

I pause. My mind returns to me and I hug her. 

"I'm glad you're back," I manage to say. 

She returns the hug, but it almost feels like she’s not even thinking about it while she does it. Where my mind returns, hers goes, as she starts to look around the apartment.

“I’m glad too. Where is he?” She repeats. 

"In the bedroom," I say, and I stop her with an arm, almost falling in the process. 

"You need to know something first, Kate," I say, my mouth beginning to dry out already.

Stress is a bitch. 

She almost seems agitated. I know it’s not because of me. “What do I need to know?” Her hands shift towards the Celtic cross necklace at her chest.

I take a breath. 

"Did you hear about the outbreak last week? Gaffney was in the center. He's been run off his feet," I say and my hands are in fists. 

“You… you were there? Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” She starts to look me over, and then stops, shaking her head once, like she’s breaking from a memory. “Okay. Okay, run off his feet. I can handle this. I can fix this.”

Oh God, help me. Grant me the strength. 

"He's not sick. He's exhausted. He's upset. There were…" I count off on my fingers. "He lost four patients, Kate." My eyes are welling up. "But…" 

“But what?” Kate says. “I need all the details before I go in there. I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

"He was on his way home, and he got attacked." My nails are almost drawing blood on my skin, I'm so agitated.

"Kate, Lanik gave him time off. He skipped the appointment with Dr. Charles that everyone was scheduled for after the outbreak." 

My voice drops to a whisper. 

"He's shut down. Completely. I'm scared," I admit. 

“You think I could talk to him?” She asks, and then rephrases. “You think he would let me talk to him?”

I look her in the eye. 

"I don't know,” I say honestly. “But try. Please." My hands are shaking, and she walks toward the bedroom. I hermit myself on the kitchen floor.

She takes a series of deep breaths, closing her eyes, before knocking on the door.

“Hey, Crockett? It’s Katie Kat. Can I come in?”

* * *

**Crockett **

I can hear Kate outside the door, and I feel my stomach turn over painfully. I take a quick look at myself. 

I'm only in a spare pair of scrubs, but it’s good enough.

"Door's open," I say, or think I say. 

She creaks it open, slipping in inside with just enough room to spare for her body. Gently, she sinks down. 

“Hey, Crockett. Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

I open my mouth before shutting it again. 

"Kelley called you," I accuse wearily. 

“Only because you didn’t,” she says, sitting criss-cross on the floor. “When were you gonna tell me about this massive shitshow that happened while I was on my honeymoon? Sounds like something we would be able to commiserate about.”

"You were being happy," I shrug. "I didn't want to bother you." 

I study my hands in the dim light in the bedroom. 

I haven't bothered to open the curtains.

She follows my eyes, and throws a thumb at the windows. “Why don’t we brighten it up in here? Only if you want. Might help.”

I wince at the thought of her seeing the bruises and scrapes. 

I'm not even wearing a sweater. She'd see the marks on my neck. 

She must see me hesitate. 

I finally nod, not looking at her. 

Kate stands up and opens the curtains, but doesn’t turn on the light. Instead, she sits back down on the floor in front of me, quietly, almost waiting for something. After a few long breaths, she speaks.

“Do you want to talk about it, or do you want a distraction?”

I shrug. 

"Why are you here?" I ask her instead. 

“You’re my friend, Kelley’s my friend. I help. It’s kind of my schtick,” she whispers, leaning forward a little. “Besides, I owe you. For maiming your little sis before the wedding.”

I bark out a laugh, and the sound frightens me. I quickly sober. 

"I forgave you for that the moment you told me what happened, Kate." 

“Doesn’t mean I did,” she says darkly, looking at the floor. “Besides. We all gotta admit fault sometimes. We all got to admit we need help. So, Crockett. What can I do for you? Because I’m not leaving until you feel just a tiny bit better.”

I can't think straight. I'm trying to process the words, and they're just… slipping on past me. 

I look her in the eye for the first time. 

“Why don’t we get you off the floor first?” She offers, standing up and offering me her hands. “Get you into one of those chairs. Then you can sit and think better. I know if I’m on this floor much longer, my bones are going to lock up, and then I just live here now. I’m your roommate. Better call Mouse and tell him I live here.”

I chuckle slightly, surprising myself. Against my better judgment, I take her hands. Halfway up I feel my damned knee twinge, and I just _know _it's going to lock on me. 

It’s like she knows it’s going to happen, because she grasps onto my elbows. Not hard, just steadying, to help me up. 

I flinch anyway. 

But I'm grateful. I stand there for a moment, swaying precariously as I will my knee to unlock. 

I give her an apologetic look. But she’s patient. She doesn’t waver. 

“Here’s a secret,” She whispers. “I’ve got knee problems, too. You blew it out, didn’t you?”

I stare at her, wondering how Kelley found such a gremlin who can double as the single handedly kindest, most generous woman in the world. 

I must have zoned out. 

"Yes, I did," I finally say, still stunned. 

“Yeah, I’m familiar with the feeling. That’s a conversation for another day,” She says under her breath, taking me to the chair. Once I settle, she sits down across from me, and she just… she waits.

I fall into my head for a moment. I don't know what to tell her.

"What do you already know?" I ask, wincing as I shift wrong in my seat. 

“I want to hear you tell me,” she says. “Quite frankly, though, not much. I just kind of… come when I’m called.”

"Don't let your husband hear you say that," I tease weakly. I sober and take a breath.

"The outbreak was bad, Kate," I say evenly. When I look up, she seems to disappear for a moment, somewhere into her thoughts. It takes her a long time to come back.

“Crockett, how much has Kelley told you about my history?”

I pause, thinking. 

"You were in the military for… 8 years?" I say. "Cultural support. You grew up with the Halsteads. You were a wild child." I shrug. "She said the rest wasn't her place to tell."

She moves her mouth, but no sound comes out, as she stares off into the floor. I almost say her name, to try to break her out, but then she speaks. 

“I joined up right after college,” she starts, still not breaking her gaze. “I spent nearly eight years in the service. In October… October 2015, though, I… I—uh, I was shot. You—you would have seen the scar. Right here,” she says, gesturing towards her shoulder, right above her heart. 

I remember. And my heart throbs painfully. 

“I, uh. I was talking to some women. A bomber took out half my squad, and—and the building collapsed around me. I tried to protect them, the—the women, but after a day and a half, they found me. They shot me. Next thing I knew, I was in Landstuhl. Within three months, I was sent home. After eight years, I couldn’t do what I knew anymore.”

She takes another deep breath, her hand finding her necklace.

“Then, after I made it home—December, December 2015, I came home. I got a job, I got an apartment. I met Mouse,” she adds with a smile. It fades quickly. “And in March, I was targeted by a serial killer. I don’t… I don’t know if you would have heard about it.”

I feel my eyes go wide. I do remember hearing it. New Orleans ate those stories up.

“I don’t know how many details the news shared, but he took me to an abandoned church, strung me up, and beat the shit out of me. I tried to escape, and he… he beat the shit out of me. Broken ribs. Nearly stabbed my lung. Broke my right wrist, nearly broke the other. Concussion. Gunshot wound to… to my knee,” she says, gesturing to her left. 

And with that, she stares off, losing her train of thought once more.

I don't even think. I get up stiffly and my arms go around her. 

"Thank you for telling me," I say into her hair. I'm reeling. I never realized that it was _Kate _the bastard had gone after.

She finally embraces me, letting out a sigh. “I’m not telling you that for pity, Crockett. I want that very clear. I’m telling you this because you need to hear it from me. I got this. I will always be there to listen when you need me. You’re not gonna scare me away.”

I scoff. 

"You never saw those people," I say. "They… There was…" I struggle with the words. 

“The words aren’t important,” she says. “We don’t have to talk about it now. I just need you to know that you can.”

I sigh, big and deep, and there was a tiny bit of weight off my chest as I move back to my chair.

I'm suddenly still, and I don't even realize I've zoned out again.

She’s kneeling down in front of me, and I never even realized she did it. 

“Crockett, can you use anything to ground you? Is there something you always wear, something that can take you back to the now?” She holds up her cross necklace. “This is mine. It’s just sharp enough to bring me back. I think you need that right now.”

I… I can't- I can't think. 

There's something on my shoulders, a light weight. 

Kelley is laying my heavy grey sweater over my shoulders. 

I blink and she's gone. Kate is in front of me. 

I don't know what's wrong. 

“Crockett, I think you’re suffering from some PTSD. Or PTSS. I don’t know what you folks are calling it these days,” she says. “I think it’s worth talking to someone about it.”

I shake my head. "No," I deny. "No."

“Then how about you talk to me about it?”

I feel slightly desperate. 

I don't have a good enough reason to not talk to her about it.

“Nothing formal. Nothing set. Just you and I, friends, talking about some of the shit we’ve seen.”

My mouth is dry and the words refuse to cooperate for a moment.

"Okay," I agree finally.

"I'm sorry in advance," I joke weakly. 

“Stop it,” she says with a thin smile. 

We fall into silence, and for once, maybe there’s a light.


	4. A Mess of a Story I'm Ashamed to Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett finds himself reaching out, and slowly the story unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formerly published under the title "Maelstrom".

**November 5, 2019  
** **0928 Hours  
** ****210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL**   
** **Crockett**

I find myself awake. 

Who am I joking, though? 

I haven't actually slept since 3. I've just been lost in my own damn head. 

Not for the first time, I find myself wondering if I should take Kate up on her offer.

Before I can change my mind my hand finds my phone and I dial. I check my watch. 0928. Good enough to know I won't wake her up.

After a several rings, I’m not sure she’s going to pick up, but eventually she does. She sounds a little out of breath. 

_“Crockett! How are you?”_

Why does she bother asking?

"I'm fine," I say. And mentally kick myself. 

_“I’m kind of in class right now,”_ she whispers, then seemingly covers up the phone and yells something I can’t make out. _“But I’m done in about ten minutes. Want to meet up?”_

I realize I called her in class, and I cringe. 

"Sorry, Kate," I say. "I'd love to meet up." 

_“Ah, no worries,”_ she continues._ “You name the place. I’m buying, and I am ravenous.”_

I think for a moment. 

"Lou Mitchell's? On Jackson?" I ask, a hint of hope in my voice.

_“Yeah, perfect! I’m gonna wrap up right now, and hop on my bike and be there in.... about ten minutes. Sound good?”_

"Yeah. Sounds great. See you there, Katie Kat." 

She hangs up the phone without another word.

I change into a button down and jeans before grabbing my car keys. 

On my way out the door, I listen at Kelley's door. 

It's one of her late shift days, and she's still asleep for now. 

Better get to that diner.

* * *

I park and sit in my car, waiting for her. I see her coming up behind on her bike, already jumping off before she was done moving. Since the day that I met her, I never thought I would see her like this: heavy combat boots, dark green camouflage pants, and a green t-shirt. No jacket, and it’s November. I’m not sure how she does it. 

I get out of my car, staring at her. 

"You reckless kid," I laugh. I move to hug her, holding on for a moment. 

“I’m super gross, Crockett. For real. You want to do this? I was training this morning. Yeah, okay. Cool. Hugs. I can do that.” The entire time she ranted, she had already pulled me close. She doesn’t let go until I do.

"Shall we?" I motion to the door, and wait. She brushes past me with a grin, and once she pushes her way inside, she points to the available places. “Booth, or table?”

"Your pick," I say, watching her. She's like a hyper puppy. I should ask Kelley if we can keep her. 

She pushes her way to the corner table at the back of the restaurant, taking the seat where she can see both the back door and the front door. With a flick of her wrist, she takes a pair of menus from the waiter’s station nearby.

I hide my grin as I follow her, and I sink into the chair gratefully. 

I find myself glancing around, sizing up the room. She, on the other hand, starts scanning the menu she had taken from the station. 

“God, they have the best pancakes. All I can think about are pancakes right now. Especially with the hangover. Have you been here before? The omelettes are divine.” When the waitress comes, she looks up to her and winks. “Sarah. What’s up? How are the kids?”

She continues a quick conversation of small talk before turning the focus to me. 

“You know what you want yet?” Her grin is taking over her face. 

I hesitate. 

"Any suggestions?" I ask lamely, feeling like I’m copping out.

“I’m thinking…” she squints, peering at me for much longer than I’m comfortable with. Eventually, she comes to the conclusion of “Grilled thick french toast. Maybe with some fruit. Not sure what they’ve got in season, though. How close am I?”

I blink. "Good enough for me." 

I look back down to my watch band, twirling it loosely on my wrist.

She peers at me briefly, orders for me, and then orders herself a stack of pancakes and whipped cream with bacon and sausage. And then she adds some hash browns and a hot chocolate. 

“Coffee? Tea? They have the World’s finest coffee here.”

I work up a smile. It’s daring and stupid, but I can’t help it. 

"Coffee and a bourbon, please. And whatever she wants." 

“Hot chocolate," she says, collecting our menus and handing them to our waitress. And then she goes silent, twiddling her fingers together and just… waiting. I don’t know what she’s waiting for.

The silence is beginning to suffocate me.

"How've you been?" I ask her. 

“Not sure I should be trying the hair of the dog here, but it was a fun night last night. Wish you could have been there. It was… a bit buckwild,” she says, widening her eyes for a second. “Got any New Orleanian cures for a hefty hangover?”

I shrug, not looking at her. 

"Haven't found anything that's worked yet," I say. 

“Disappointing. I could really use that. So, the real question is, how are you?” And she waits. And she’s silent. 

The answer is out of my mouth before I even think.

"I'm fine." 

Her head tilts. She rests her chin on her hands. “Are you, though?” She asks, squinting.

I know if I look at her I'm going to either break down or clam up. 

So I focus on the painting on the wall nearby.

“You know, there’s an open invitation,” Kate says. “An open invitation to talk. About… anything. What you’re feeling. What you’re going through. What annoys you about living with Kelley. Did she ever finally get through her Laundry Mountain after my wedding?”

I snort. 

"The only reason she got through it is because I did five loads after she went to work. She didn't remember there was more, so she thinks she finally finished it." I smile a bit thinking about it. 

"You know, she's annoyingly clean." 

“Oh, I know,” She says, taking her drink and drinking it long. “She’s insanely clean. But the girl put off a helluva lot while she prepped for what everyone called the ‘wedding of the century’. I mean, no pressure, right?”

I shake my head, draining half my bourbon. 

"I honestly do not understand what the hell goes on in her mind," I admit. 

“You think I do? She just… waltzes into my life, takes me for coffee, thinks I’m some sort of House 51 legend for the six car pile up and the… the March 2016 shitshow,” she says, her fingers absentmindedly pulling her cross necklace out from under her shirt. “And then like it’s nothing, she’s one of my best friends. I guess she has that effect on people.”

I nod, letting my mind drift. I shake myself awake presently, smiling thinly at her. 

The longer I can hold off on making a fool of myself, the better. 

I pause. "Wait." I do look at her now. "Six car pileup?" 

“Oh. Yeah. Right after Christmas, when I got back. 2015. I had just gotten home. Literally. Michigan Avenue. And six cars, plus Chicago winter, equals catastrophe. Had a lot of bystanders, but no one sort of… rushing in. I had everyone extricated before House 51 got there.” She seems half grandstanding, half apologetic. Like she’s sorry for what she did, but it seems in character for her to have done it. “Actually, that’s… that’s how I met… that’s how I met Cutler.” 

I study her carefully.

"Cutler was the psycho, right?" 

Kate’s gone. Her eyes don’t quite blink, but they shift, her hand still clutching her necklace. This one takes longer than the ones I’ve seen before. She can’t quite break.

I kick myself for saying that. 

"Kate," I call, and I gently lay a hand on her free one that's resting on the table. 

"Come back to me, Kaitlyn," I say, and I'm getting a bit worried.

She pulls her hand back quickly, hitting her silverware and producing a clang. She looks at me, her eyes wide, seemingly embarrassed.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry, Crockett. What were we talking about?”

"Hey. Where'd you go?" I ask softly. "I've got you."

She adjusts in her seat, letting go of her necklace and peering at her hand. The silver metal left indentations in her skin. “Still sucks sometimes. Getting better, though.” She clears her throat. “At any rate, Kelley, uh… Kelley saved me more than she realizes, I think. I needed her more than she ever knew.”

I smile. "She's good at that." I find myself draining the rest of my bourbon quickly.

“So, how did you two meet?” She asks innocently.

I blank, and I know, I just know I'm turning red. 

"Well. I. Uhm. That's a-" I sigh, shoving my head in my hands. 

As the meal arrives, she’s distracted for a second by her pancakes, and I hope she’ll forget the conversation, but it’s to no avail. Once she’s decimated two mouthfuls, she jumps back in.

“Now you definitely owe me that story. You’re blushing, Marcel.”

"Like hell I'm blushing," I mutter. But I cave anyway, ordering a second bourbon. "She was in the hospital. I saw she was alone. I cooked her food. We talked. A lot. She didn't have a place to stay." I shrug. 

"The rest is history," I say. 

She smiles. This one seems purer than the rest. “That… that’s a little better than I thought. I mean, there’s an innocence to it. We don’t always get that anymore, you know?”

"Yeah, I do," I say, rolling my now-empty bourbon glass around in my hand absentmindedly. 

“So, Marcel, time to cut to the chase. What’s the real reason you gave me a call at 9:30 on a Tuesday?”

There's no point in lying, so I tell the truth. 

"I was getting lost," I mumble.

“Well, Crockett, I found ya. So I’m going to hit you with a question you’ve heard from me before: do you want to talk about it, or do you want a distraction?”

I take a moment to breathe. My airway seems to close for a moment, and my hand automatically goes to my throat, and I try not to think about the bruises. The physical marks are gone, but the mental scars still remain. 

I force my hand back down. 

"Talk," I say tersely. 

“Alright. Tell me what I need to know,” she says simply, continuing her breakfast. 

"You heard about the outbreak?" I ask. I have to know where she's coming from. 

“Kelley told me a little, but why don’t you tell me from your perspective.”

"Some asshole made a disease. Sort of a contagious necrotizing fasciitis." 

I pick at my food as I talk. 

"There were… a few cases. Jay and Will were some of the best. Couldn't have gotten through it without them." 

I exhale heavily. Good enough. 

“Fuck,” she whispers, then repeats it again, longer this time. “Isn’t that the thing that just… eats your flesh? Feels like a zombie film?”

I think. 

"That's… probably a good analogy," I say after a moment. "Yeah. Flesh eating bacteria."

“Saw a lot of diseases in Afghanistan,” she says. “Gross ones. Can’t imagine seeing flesh eating bacteria. But you contained it?”

I nod. I'm suddenly a lot less hungry. 

"It was a bitch," I whisper.

“You need to eat,” she says, gesturing towards my plate. “Not going to help anything if you don’t. So you got through the containment situation, then what?”

I shrug, picking at my food. 

I don't know how much she knows, or how much to say.

“Wanna keep talking about it, or discuss something else? I could tell you about how Mouse nearly fell off the ski lift in Montana. Everyone needs to know about that.”

I jump at that. 

"How did he manage that?" I ask, grateful as hell to ignore the elephant in the room. 

“Alright. So. We were headed up to our first skiing lesson. I’ve skiied like, three times before? And of course, Mouse had never done it in his life, and his balance, while it’s better since he’s started skating, is absolute garbage. So we’re heading up the mountain on the ski lift, and the damn idiot—you know how wiggly the bastard is—forgets there’s no seatbelt on the thing. If I hadn’t pushed him back, we would have been on some sort of Live PD Close Call compilation. The dumbass. He fell completely on his ass about ten minutes later when we were in our ski lessons, by the way. I fell exactly once. He very quickly gave up and challenged me to a hockey game.”

I can see the exact situation in my head, and I have to put my head down to laugh for a moment. 

“I don’t know how he made it through Ranger training without completely falling over his own feet, I swear,” she says. As she talks with her hands, her own eyes catch the rings on her left hand: on her ring finger, her engagement ring and wedding band. On her middle finger, her claddagh ring, pointed towards her. I know there’s significance. But she glances at it and chuckles.

"What?" I ask curiously.

She sets her hand down. “I know we’re still really getting to know each other, Crockett, but… I never thought this would be my life, you know?” She gestures with her left hand, showing me her rings. “This was never in the cards. But I came home three years ago, and this is where I’m at. Things change so quickly sometimes. My expectations… I would have never expected this.”

I grin at her. 

"Fair enough. Expectations change. Life changes. Life fucks you over, and then throws you a tiny angry blonde to try and fix it."

I sit back, thoughts starting to wonder what would have happened if I hadn't changed my mind about Chicago. 

“I know I’m a bit different than Kelley. I’ve got different… different draws, I guess, but I’m always here. And I’m good for a listen. And for a drink,” she says, gesturing towards her finished hot chocolate. “I… I enjoy talking to you, Crockett. And I like to think you like talking to me, too.”

I smile. 

"I do, Katie Kat." 

I pause. 

“You’re the only person alive who’s permitted to call me that,” she says, a serious look crossing her face.

I shrug. "Or what?"

“I could think of some interesting and creative punishments.”

"I'll enjoy watching."

I look her in the eye for a moment. 

She’s serious. She’s serious for all of two seconds, before she bursts into laughter. Her face starts to turn red.

I shake my head, grinning. 

As I laugh I feel it. I feel the grey mist.

I feel myself beginning to zone out, and I blindly grab out for her hand. 

"Kate-" 

She takes it. She takes it tightly, gripping my fingers. “You got this, Crockett. Just breathe. You’ll get through it. Take it to the other side.”

I try to take a breath. I feel like if I let go of her hand I'm going to float away and drown. 

"Kate," I say again, and I hate that my voice wobbles. 

“Crockett, you gotta ground yourself. Find your anchor. Hey, how was Kelley when she got home? Did she drink one of those disgusting orange Gatorades?”

I fight for the words, trying to push them past my mouth. "She always does," I hear myself - is it me? - say faintly.

“I once mixed those with tequila—I mean, okay, tell me what she looked like when she got home. What was she wearing?”

The words are scrambling. There's a gap. There is a gap in my mind. 

"I… God, I don't…. Her black dress? The one with the flappy sewn on wings... Sparkled."

I feel like there's sweat dripping down my face, and I try to look at Kate. Maybe she can fix it.

“Breathe,” she says, almost under her breath. I don’t know if it’s for her or me. “Did she still have her shoes on when she came in, or had she ditched them already?”

I try to remember. The gap is like a black spot in my mind, hiding things.

I can't remember.

"Off?" I half say, half ask. 

I'm trying to get air.

“And what kind of shoes were they? They were hot, I know you saw them.”

"Stupid," I huff.

“Describe them,” she orders.

"Black? Heels," I fight. "Looked like hooker shoes."

“Fair assessment,” Kate mutters. “What about her jewelry? Did she say anything to you when she got in?”

I try and dig up the memory, and it's not there. The shell is, but the information is not. 

"She was tired," I offer, gripping Kate's hand tighter.

She squeezes back. “Did she tell you anything about last night? For the love of God, I hope she didn’t.”

I try to focus on one thing at a time. 

"I don't know," I say, and I'm horrified, because it comes out in a whimper.

“Just try.”

"She said you didn't commit a felony. She never says that," I say. 

Kate's hand will be bruised and I'm sorry. 

I can't let go. 

“Good. Keep it that way. Hey, would it be better if we get you some air?”

I nod. I'm not sure I even know what she asked. But I'll do anything. 

Kate says something offhanded to the waitress, and she pulls me to my feet. I stand still. 

What do I do?

Kate, though, Kate takes charge. She links her fingers in mine and leads the way to the back door. It says it’s a fire exit, but Kate goes up on her tiptoes and unhooks some sort of wire before pushing the doors open. We burst out into the back parking lot, shrouded by the Chicago skyline. 

But the air is fresh, and it burns my chest.

I gasp in a lungful. I need to sit down. 

Kate pulls me down to the ground, and we sit in the shadows cast by the building. 

“Take your time, Crockett,” she says, still holding onto my hand. “I got all the time in the world.”

I grip her hand, and I'm trying to fight my way back to the surface- 

"Four!" I say suddenly, wondering where the hell that came from.

“Four? What’s four, Crockett?” She says, turning towards me.

I can suddenly think again, and I wish I couldn't. 

"Four people," I say, looking her in the eye regretfully.

“Oh. Oh,” Kate says flatly. “Four. Crockett, you did everything you could.” Her voice comes through gently. Gentler than I have ever heard her speak. “Trust me. I know about doing everything you could.”

I can breathe but I wish I can't. 

I know she's right. I know that. 

It's my fault. 

"I shouldn't have tried to drive." 

I'm making no sense and I look at her apologetically. 

“Where did you try to drive?” She asks, making no indication whatsoever she cares whether I’m making sense or not. “Crockett, what happened?”

"When I left Gaffney," I say, confused. I thought she knew? "I was going home. I slept a few minutes so I thought it was fine. I should've just asked for a ride." 

“So, something happened when you tried to leave,” she starts to piece together. “After the situation at Gaffney. Did you… did you fall asleep at the wheel?”

I laugh. 

As I begin to drive out, my eyelids begin to weigh heavy.

I force them open. 

And I step on the brakes. I'm three feet from the barrier on the edge.

Three feet. 

I turn off the car, and my hands are shaking.

"I think so," I say. "I got out. Went to take the bus."

“Okay, okay. So you were heading for the bus. Did you make it home okay?”

I need to tell her. 

"Got attacked in the alley behind Gaffney," I say dully. 

There. 

I said it. 

I get hit in the head. There's a hand on my throat- 

I grab for Kate's hand.

She lets me. She lets me another time, she doesn’t pull away. And she’s almost… clinical. No emotion. Nothing to latch on to. 

“Do you know who did it? Did you see who it was?”

He came up behind me, I couldn't see.

And when I’m shoved face first into the wall, I’m too stunned to even lash out. 

I can't breathe, but I can't stop coughing.

My throat is burning, and I'm in pain. 

I can feel the handprint around my throat.

I shake my head. 

"If I wasn't being introduced face to brick wall, his hand was on my throat." My voice drops lower. "Couldn't breathe. Couldn't see."

“Did they take anything? Anything from your wallet, or-or your pockets, or anything?”

"Nothing." 

I feel sick. 

"Nothing was taken," I whisper. 

Her hand is an anchor. 

“That makes no sense,” she whispers. “That makes no sense. If they didn’t want anything, if they didn’t take anything, why… why attack you?” Whatever she is musing on, she pushes it down. “What did you do after?”

"I came home. Then it went to hell."

I huff. "Kate, this is stupid."

“It’s not stupid. Keep going. What did you do next?”

I blank. "I got home. Kelley got upset." 

“Why? What got her upset?”

"I think… I know she saw the bruises."

My free hand is shaking. She takes it in her other hand. 

“She tried to get you help, then, didn’t she? Ethan? Or… or, oh what’s that guy’s name…”

"She called Lanik," I say quietly. "The ED department head."

“Right, right. And he looked you over, right? Made sure it wasn’t… wasn’t a bad injury?”

I startle. Damned if I know why. 

"She shouldn't have called him," I say.

“Why not?” It’s a simple statement, a question without pretense.

"I was fine." 

Ah there it is. The phrase we both know is a bold faced lie. 

My breath catches in my throat.

She glares at me for a moment. It’s a long look. It’s a knowing look. 

“Crockett, you know there’s no need for that between us. I know when someone is not fine. I’ve lived ‘not fine’.”

I suck in a breath. 

"Kate," I say. "I got jumped. Now I can't even sleep through the night. Stupid, right?"

She stares at me blankly. 

“That is… that is the least stupid reaction you could have. That’s literally the reaction a human should have. You’ve been through trauma, Crockett. You’ve been through hell. The moment you decide to realize that is the moment you can finally start to step past it. You’re not a horrible person. They were horrible people. You were a victim. You are a victim. You can’t change what happened, but you can change how you react to it. The sooner you realize that, the sooner your healing can start.”

I mull that over in my mind. 

I open my mouth, mindful Kate might say something else.

"Kate, when Kelley got attacked. It was a mess. Mine isn't that bad."

She groans, looking up to the sky. “You do not… you can’t… comparing trauma is the worst thing you can do. There aren’t degrees. There aren’t… it’s not…” She’s getting increasingly frustrated, but then takes a deep breath. “It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to her, you comparing the two. They’re vastly different situations, to different people, with different reactions.”

I swallow around my dry mouth. 

"I hate this feeling," I admit. "Kate… this, this-" I wave my hand around. "This little space out? It's happening. All the time. Kelley doesn't even know."

I lean my head back, eyes closed. 

"I want this to stop."

“I know. But it’s not going to be immediate. And the more people you trust with this— Kelley, me— the more support you can have. This isn’t triage in… in Kandahar,” she says, brushing dust from her camo pants, “it’s a delicate fifteen hours surgery. You have to take your time and get all the shrapnel out, or it won’t properly heal.”

"So what?" I ask. "I can't do this alone." 

“You’re not. I’m shit with a scalpel, but I can follow instructions. And Kelley knows her way around the brain. You’ve got two of the most qualified unqualified people in your corner already. It would be a shame to let that go to waste.”

I look at her, and all I see is sincerity. 

My breath hitches as my eyes burn. 

"Help," I whisper, and I finally let myself cry. 

No. Wait. Not in front of Kate. 

Shit.

"This isn't who I am, Kate!"

“But this wasn’t your fault, either. I don’t blame myself for—for Nangalam, and I don’t blame myself for St. Boniface. Things were done to you, without your consent. The best thing you can do is try.”

"That's what my mother said…" I whisper and it flips a switch.

Those words send a wave of pain through my chest, and I do cry then, ugly and raw. I reach out for Kate, aching for something or someone to keep me here, keep me from drowning.

And she embraces me. She pulls me into a hug, in the back alleyway of the Chicago diner, in the middle of the morning on a Tuesday. 

And somehow, I can see that light come a bit closer. 


	5. Try to Embrace the Lines on Your Face (The Story of Who You Are)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallout from the outbreak comes to disrupt life, and Crockett may finally be getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formerly published under the name "Maelstrom".

**November 14, 2019   
** **0823 Hours  
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center  
** **Crockett**

"I'll be fine," I say as I hang up my coat. 

Kelley huffs on the other end. 

_"It's still your first week back, Crockett. I'm damn well going to worry." _

"Well, don't," I say. 

Her voice drops down low. 

_"Call me if you need anything,"_ she says.

"I will," I affirm before hanging up. 

I take a moment to take a breath and watch the bustle of the ED.

I've missed this. 

* * *

I'm covering a post-Op for a coworker, and it ends well. 

As per my routine, I take some time to walk around the surgical recovery ward. 

There's a few familiar faces I see.

I've missed this.

As I head towards the elevator however, I pass the open balcony. 

The bustle is louder than normal, and I take a second to lean over the railing, trying to pick out the sounds. 

"Dr. Marcel, it's good to see you back!" 

I turn and Ms. Goodwin is at my side. 

"Good to be back, ma'am," I say gripping her hand warmly. 

She turns to the busy hospital below us, and we take a moment just listening. 

I can tell she's distracted. 

"How's the battle?" I ask softly, and she just shrugs.

"Still cleaning up fallout from the virus," she says, frustrated. 

I turn to her then.

"What do you mean?" 

"There's been a few letters…." She trails off before shaking her head. "It's nothing to be worried for."

I can tell she wants to say more but she doesn't. 

I'm interrupted by screams from the ground floor. 

I try to see from a better angle, and I catch sight of two men - three men, with guns. 

Goodwin starts toward the elevator. 

I grab her arm and motion for her to keep silent so I can hear.

"- Sharon Goodwin! She ruined it all!" 

There are people cowering, and I can see a security guard draw near. 

I see him be cut down by bullets the second one of the men turns his way. 

Goodwin is agitated and rightly so, I think. 

From what I can hear, the two men are likely some sort of cult or apocalyptic society, and they blame Goodwin for… for apparently stopping the second coming that the outbreak was intended for. 

I look at Ms. Goodwin, who is on the phone with CPD. I hear her name drop Voight, and I already know the best are on the way. 

But so are the men with guns. 

One scans the room, and when his gaze nears us I yank Goodwin to the floor. 

A shot rings out. 

I see them disappear into the stairway and I suddenly know where they're headed.

For her. 

"Come on," I say urgently, ripping my keys off my lanyard and moving down the hallway. I come to a janitorial closet with a "containment" sign, and I begin trying key after key. 

I can hear shots echoing. 

I get the door open as four others come around the corner. Maggie is one of them, as well as Dr. Abrams, Doris, and a doctor from obstetrics that I don't recognize. 

"In," I say, pulling them into the cramped room. 

I jam the door behind me.

"Hide between shelves, anything," I say before laying my ear to the door.

I need to listen. 

I hear shots, closer now. 

I pull the door tighter, making sure it's jammed. 

The others are all squeezed in corners, and I stand still in the narrow bottleneck by the door. 

To get to the others, and to Ms. Goodwin, anyone would have to go through me. 

I steady myself on the wall and listen. 

When a shot rattles in the hall outside, I think we all jump. 

I ready myself in the door. 

I don't even think. 

I stand in front of the others and prepare to die for them. 

I hear several shots outside and my heart is pounding. 

The pounding on the door rivals my heart, and I jam my hand over my mouth to stay silent. 

The pounding goes on, and then I hear it. 

"Chicago PD, open up!!"

I wrench the door open so fast I almost fall into Jay Halstead's arms. 

I beckon the others out, and Jay catches my shoulder. "You okay, man?" 

I nod. 

He doesn't push me. 

I'm pretty sure I look as pale and shaky as I feel. 

Once he's taken my statement, I'm free to go. 

Lanik has given me the rest of the day off, and I'm suddenly so grateful. 

I palm my phone from my locker, dialing the first number that comes to mind. 

"Kate, I'm, uh, I'm at Med." I don't wait for her answer. "Can you come get me?"

* * *

I'm sitting just inside the door when she texts me that she's arrived. 

I slowly walk out to her before remembering something. I turn back to my car. 

I crack open the glove compartment and I pull out the handgun. 

I check it quickly before slipping it into my bag and locking my car once more. 

I walk back towards Kate, and I don't even say anything. 

I just wrap her in my arms, and I wait until I think I can breathe again.

And she just holds me. She waits, not letting go, silently, in the Chicago November. She knows better. She knows she doesn’t have to say anything. 

When I finally step back I swipe my hand over my eyes quickly, and give her a half-smile. 

"How have you been?" I ask her quietly. 

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. School. Rescuing my friends. Crockett, what the fuck happened in there?” 

I shrug, and I can't quite speak. 

After a moment's thought I look at her, and my voice is raw.

"How familiar are you with gun ranges in Chicago?" 

“It’s a little ways out of town, but there’s one in Lyons,” she says, a little wary. “You… you wanna head out there? I mean, I can help. If you want.”

"Let's go," I say stiffly. "If you're all right with that." 

Luckily, she drove to Gaffney. We head down on 55 until we’re out of Chicago proper and into the suburbs. She doesn’t speak until then. 

“What the hell happened, Crockett?” She seems to muse, whispering under her breath. I don’t know if I was meant to hear it. 

I swallow and turn back to the window. 

I don't know if I can answer that question yet. 

I let my hand slip into my bag and I can feel the grip. 

I say nothing.

She doesn’t push. She just pulls into the gun range, silent. Kate, she may run her mouth a lot, but in times like this, she knows. She knows better than anyone. I’m starting to realize that. 

She opens the door to the range, waiting for me to go inside. With a nod to the owner, I realize she must come here often. 

I pull my handgun from its case in my bag, and I run through the motions silently. I can feel her watching me. 

I focus on my task.

“What’s your piece?” She says quietly. Just loud enough for me to hear. She pulls her own out of her bag, making enough checks that it looks almost contrived. Perhaps second nature. 

"Smith and Wesson M&P," I murmur. 

My eyes are firmly on my hands. 

I feel both grounded and terrified. Always have, always will. 

“Didn’t expect you to have your CCW,” she says. “Beretta M9. Some habits you never lose.”

"There's a lot you wouldn't expect from me," I say darkly. I soften for a moment, and I give her a quick smile. "I fully expected you to have yours."

“Wasn’t always the case,” she mutters, checking over each part of her gun for a third time before loading it. “About…. April of 2016, I got it. Not like I needed the training.” 

"The training they give is redundant anyway," I say as I load. "Had to do it in Louisiana when I applied for an Illinois license. And then again here." 

She waits until we both have our ear protection on, and as soon as the targets shift to the end of the range, she starts unloading. It’s like an extension of her hands. 

I don't have the experience she does, but I know enough. 

She knows exactly how many rounds she has, immediately dropping her hands after 17. I think it’s the first time she breathes. 

And then she waits for me to shoot. 

My hands come up, and I sight. 

Five, breathe. Five, breathe. Last seven. 

I keep my eyes on the target as I go, focused. 

The world around me may as well be invisible. 

When I'm done, I step back. 

She brings back the targets, and immediately eyes mine.

“Nice,” she says under her breath. “Got a good eye.”

"Necessity is the mother of invention," I say absentmindedly as I study my target.

“I’d rather hope you’ve got a good eye. You know. Surgeon.” Instead of looking at her own target, she rips it down and puts up another. 

"What can I say, it's called medical practice for a reason," I chuckle as I switch my own target. "How can I get better if I can't practice?" 

With lethal accuracy, she reloads her gun, sends the target down, and immediately looses her entire clip. She barely breathes, she barely thinks. They’re gone, exploding into the paper and creating a massive hole in the middle of the target. 

She peers at it like it wasn’t good enough.

I blink and pause. 

"How the hell do I follow that?" I say with a laugh. 

I sight my own, and I follow my pattern. 

I'm calmer, and my hands are steadier. 

I step back again.

“Well, Crockett, you don’t,” she sighs. “You ever wonder why we’re friends?” It’s a jarring statement already, made worse by the unloaded pistol in her hand. 

I shrug. 

"On the surface," I hum thoughtfully, humor in my voice, "This looks very bad, yes. Two people at a gun range, emotional." I nod to make my point. "Bad idea." 

I turn to her, though, and I'm serious this time. 

"I think we found each other when we needed to." 

I don't know what else to say, but I eye the unloaded pistol she's holding and I tamp down the caution in my head. 

She chuckles at first, but I know where it’s coming from. It’s just her coping mechanism of turning everything to humor. But I don’t know if she can do it this time. 

“Are you… this probably isn’t a good question to get into at a gun range, but are you a religious man, Crockett?”

I check my gun methodically once, then twice. Once more for good measure.

"Catholic," I say, trying to keep my voice even. "It's been a while," I add. 

This time, she sets her gun down on the ledge. “Why haven’t you told me? You should… you should come with me some time,” she mutters. “Wait, my point. I lost it. My point is… I think we had a little divine intervention on this one. Who would have thought? You’re a trauma surgeon from the Big Easy… I was a soldier. You, you… you’re supposed to fix people, and I’m supposed to take them down.”

Another target, another clip. This time, her hands waver a little. One shot doesn’t even make the target. When she’s done, she sighs, setting the gun back down again. I can see her hands shake.

I check and set my own gun down.

"Kate," I say, and my mind is thinking about her words but I'm focusing on the woman in front of me. 

I reach an arm around her shoulders, just hugging her into my side. 

"We're a bit alike, you and I," I say.

She just melts into me, pulling me into a real hug, resting her head on my chest. I feel like she sighs a little, the exhaustion seeming leaving her body. This isn’t like before. This isn’t the hug she gave me in the parking lot. This is what she needed, not what I needed. And by God, I'll give her this. Anything.

“I’m glad you think so,” she whispers. “Some days are good, some days are bad. Some days I feel like… like you? You’re too good to be in my life. I’ve done some shit, Crockett. I’ve seen some shit. And I know you have, too. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not anyone as good as you.”

I pull her tighter, and I take a moment to think about her words. 

"Kate, listen to me," my voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. "I'm not even near good. But that's neither here or there. I don't know the extent of what you've seen," I feel my voice wobble and I try to continue, "But I know it was nothing this side of good."

A beat passes before I speak again.

"I'm so sorry, Kate. I'm sorry that you've seen every damn thing you have." 

“Same to you, Crockett. Same to you.” She sighs, she lets go, and heads back to her cubby. She looks tired, she looks spent, but she continues. “Catholic? Really? And you never thought to tell me? You were at my wedding, Crockett.”

I shrug again. "It never came up. And yes, Kate, I know I was at your wedding. I was there, of course I know." 

“You and I have a hell of a lot to talk about,” she muses, reloading her gun. She sends another target down to the end of the range once more. 

I take a second to think as I start unloading and putting my own piece away. I take a moment to watch Kate do her thing.

With one last deep breath, she takes the gun in her right hand, but doesn’t bring up the left to support it. Instead, she stands wider and unleashes the entire clip one-handed.

The target literally falls off the holder, a piece of shredded paper. She looks at it, half pleased, half disgusted. 

“Alright. If you’re good, I’m good,” she says.

I'm in awe, and afraid at the same time. 

I pack up.

"Kate," I say, waiting for her to look at me. 

"Let's go to dinner. My treat." My voice is soft as I look at my somewhat-shaken friend. 

* * *

After a lot of cursing from Kate upon finding a spot in a parking garage, she continues to refuse to tell me where we’re going.

I think my ears are bleeding after the parking space ordeal. 

I fall into step with her.

"So?" 

“So what? Oh. So. I’ve been wanting to come here for a while, but Mouse is _deathly _allergic to shellfish. Can’t even step in this place. With you, maybe,” she jokes. 

"I'm an ED doc at heart, you bet I carry enough drugs he'd be able to come in the door. For about thirty seconds at least." I smile when I see her chuckle.

“You have a job to do,” she half-accuses, opening the door to the restaurant. “You gotta tell me if this is legit or not.”

I raise an eyebrow as I step in the door. 

"I never even knew this place was here," I say.

In Kate’s typical fashion, she more or less just finds her own seat, leading me to the bar area without so much of a word. She tosses me a menu and she immediately starts looking through.

“I’m gonna need help. I have no idea what I’m looking at,” she says, glancing to her phone. It’s ringing, and I see the screen-- it’s a photo of Greg, on skis, holding a bunch of snow in his hands. I know that ended up in her face after the photo was taken. She answers it on the third ring. 

I focus on the menu in my hand.

“Hey! No, I’ll be home later tonight. I’m with Crockett. Yeah, he’s good. Shit went down at Gaffney today. No. I’ll tell you later. There’s leftovers in the fridge, and I swear to God, if you fuck up my save game on GTA, I’ll end you, okay? Okay. Love you!”

I blink. I'm glad I wasn't on the other end of that, because Kate is a force of nature. I won't even so much as _look _at her console, not after a threat like that. 

"So," I start. I point out a couple of things on the menu. "The Payday should be good, bit of crab and shrimp, or you could turn tradition on its ear and build your own." I pause. "How's Greg?"

“He’s… he’s good,” she says with a smile. I don’t think I’m supposed to see it. “He’s kicking ass in the ROTC program. I got to sit in on one of his classes two weeks ago. He’s… he’s doing well.” She starts to drift, then brings it back. “I know you kind of came in late to—to our drama, but I’m sure Kelley told you quite a bit.”

Her threat on the phone is still in my mind. 

"She told me some," I evade, not wanting to have to have Kelley need to tell Lanik why his employee is not returning to work because his friend terminated him for knowing too much.

“You’re right,” she mutters, “The Payday. We deserve this.” We both order, and she finally turns back to me. “Well, how much do you know?” 

I think my sheepish grin says it before I say it. 

"Probably just about everything Kelley knows without violating privacy."

“Well, you know everything I’ve been through,” she says. “Long story short, about six months after my shit show at St. Boniface, Greg re-enlisted. Year and a half later, he comes back. Convoy explosion. Stuck in a wheelchair. He, uh. Eventually I tracked him down and helped him into rehab. He went from… well, nothing, to a year later, skiing with his wife in Montana.”

She peers at her ring, drifting a little. “Anyway, that’s the majority of that story. How about you, Crockett? What’s your story?”

I take a breath. I will _not _lose it. I refuse to let myself do that. 

"New Orleans boy. Born and raised. Oldest of three boys," I wince at the mention of my brothers. "Mom was from Tehran. Dad had been stationed there, and then the embassy fiasco happened in '77. America became persona non grata, and Mom came here with him. Then I happened." 

I take a moment, and I force a smile at her.

“Tehran, wow. Been a long time, but I’ve been around there. It’s actually kind of pretty. I mean, that’s not what I meant, I--”

"Mom talked about it a lot." I stare at my hands. 

"She remembered how it went from a normal city to a war zone. She… she never talked much about what it was like before. Dad never talked about it, ever." I look up. "You were there?" 

“Uh, yeah. Early 2015. Before I was… before I went to Afghanistan.”

I shake my head in awe. "Kate, you never stop amazing me." 

She seems to stutter for a moment. “What did I do? I… I went where I was sent.”

I smile. "Makes me feel a little more at home, Katie Kat." I look down again.

"Grew up Catholic. Played hockey in high school. My brothers were damned holy terrors. I had four years on Donny and five on Rob." 

“There’s so much to unpack,” she sighs, almost holding her head. “Hockey? And how the hell did you get the name Crockett?!”

"Damned if I know how I got the name Crockett," I shrug. "Louisiana, baby," I raise my glass with a laugh. 

"Yeah I played as a left forward on my high school team." 

“Crockett! Crockett! Not— not fair! You should try out for the team!” 

I shrug. "Why would I do that? I can't even watch Kelley play without my blood pressure spiking dangerously. Besides, my knee blowing out didn't help." 

“Being on the ice would mean you could help make sure Kelley didn’t hurt herself,” she tries with a wink. “Besides. Mouse, me, Kelley… it’s fantastic. You’re a workaholic. It would be good for you.” 

I sigh. "We'll see. It's not a no."

I take a drink, and I just _know _my eyes are glazing over. Memories are a bitch sometimes. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Her voice gets… different. It’s softer. She grazes my hand with hers. 

I smile sadly. 

"Life was hard. Grew up on St. Roch Street, one of the most dangerous parts of New Orleans. Both my brothers were into drugs and shit in their early teens. I tried to keep them on the straight and narrow."

I stare off at the wall. 

"I remember the constant fights, the storming off in the middle of the night. When I got into Tulane for medical school, it got worse. I moved closer to the university during my undergrad." 

“Is that why you wanted to be a surgeon? Seen enough of the bad, you needed the good?”

I nod. I think about my next words, and I swallow past the painful lump in my throat. 

"My brothers were junkies. Dad was a good man, but an alcoholic. Mom got sick in 2002. Died the next year. My brothers weren't around." 

I try to stay grounded. I'm in the present. Not the past. 

"Late 2003 Rob cleaned up. Started going around with a girl from our church. Got married in early 2005. 2005 was a half decent year until that August."

“Katrina,” Kate whispers. It’s all she has to say. 

I nod. "We were supposed to get out of town. My brother Donny took off back in the St. Roch area, and Dad didn't want to give up on him. If Rob cleaned up, Donny could too." My voice drops low, and it shakes a bit. "Dad drowned. Donny made it. Somehow." 

I take a breath. "Lost both parents within two years, and my brothers both went off the rails. I threw myself into disaster relief as soon as I could."

“I… I can understand that. I graduated, the Halsteads all left, so I went into the only thing I could. So I understand disasters.” 

I sigh, and I know that I'll lose it now. Without thinking, I take Kate's hand. 

"My brother Donny, he uh… he knocked up a girl, Lacy. 2007. They had a little girl. Her name was Martine," I say, and I can't look Kate in the eye. 

She swallows hard. “You said was.”

I nod. "When she was three, I was visiting Lacy and Donny in their apartment. I went to go put Martine to bed. I thought both Lacy and Don were clean. They let me believe they were," I say, a little bit angrily. "They weren't. And they owed money. Their dealer came by. I was in Martine's room. I heard yelling, I heard shots." I close my eyes, and it feels almost like that night. 

"I took Martine and climbed out the window onto the fire escape. The police took an hour to come. Both Lacy and Donny were dead. The dealer took his time searching the apartment." 

My hand comes up and I scrub it across my face. I take a drink. 

I'm not sure what to do with my hands. 

“Jesus Christ,” she whispers. “What happened? What happened after?”

"I uh… I took in Martine. I was home with her most of the time, but she came to the daycare that the hospital ran. Sometimes on nights I'd go see Rob and Jenny, one of my friends, usually Tasha would watch her for the night."

My voice hitches. 

"There was one night, 2011. I went to go see Jenny when Rob was supposed to be out of town. Rob… he beat her. She tried to get out a few times. But it never worked." 

My hands are shaking. 

Kate just gasps. And then… then she looks pissed. 

“Don’t tell me. Actually, please. I should know. You should be able to get it off your chest.”

I squeeze Kate's hand. 

"I was outside their house. I heard Rob yelling, why he was there, I don't know. But he was screaming at her. I broke down the door and he had her on the floor and a gun to her head," I say shakily, and my voice cracks. 

"He was surprised enough and she grabbed the gun. I- I don't think she meant to shoot…" I say weakly.

Our food arrives and she’s left looking down at it blankly. 

“I wish I had something more to say. But no one should ever have to go through that. Never.”

I shrug. "Rob was killed instantly. Jenn got carted away to prison. I wish I could have done more." I take a deep breath. "Martine got me through-" I say, tears in my eyes. I force a smile.

"I finished my residency, and I got an attending position in the Tulane Medical ED. And then I finally got a trauma surgery position. December 2013 they promoted me to ED head. Like… Like Lanik."

“Wow. Wow. What…. what happened to Martine?”

I can't stop the sudden sob out of my mouth. 

"2014, Martine and I were at home, and a fire started in the apartment below us. The building was built quickly after Katrina, and it went up in a flash. We tried getting out."

I can feel Kate's eyes on me.

"The stairs collapsed the second Martine stepped on them." 

I draw in a noisy breath as I stare at the table. 

"I caught her hand. I was trying to pull her back up to the landing. Debris fell, landed on me. Crushed me, broke some ribs, third degree burns on my legs and back." I tick off the injuries on my fingers.

"But when I didn't answer her screams, Martine must've thought I was dead. She let go." I pause. "She was 7 years old." 

I choke back the sob. 

"No one should have to lose a child," I say painfully. "And she wasn't even _my_ daughter. That was a whole... yeah." _A whole other issue. _

Don't go there. Only you, the Kenleys, and your Surgical Ethics professor know anymore. Don't fuck that up.

I can't even think. I just feel the grief wash over me again. 

Kate leans over and pulls me close. “Let me tell you this. It’s not gonna feel good, and you might not believe me, but it’s not your fault. And you did everything you could. It’s the worst. It’s the fucking worst. It will someday heal. It may leave scar tissue, but it’ll heal.”

I nod, trying to pull myself together again. 

"You know," I laugh and it's bitter and humorless. "I got that gun the year after Martine died. I needed something. I'd moved back into a sketchy area of town. I learned my gun inside and out." 

I shrug. "I hate guns, but it helped for a while. Then the shit show at Gaffney happened this morning, and it reminded me of my brothers. The rest came with it." 

I try not to cry.

"I put myself in the line of fire for my niece. I did the same today for Ms. Goodwin and the others. I could've been killed, Kate." I shake my head, finally looking her in the eye. "And I wouldn't have minded."

She has to know what happened. 

Jay probably called her, right?

“Crockett, when you… you called me, you sounded…. hollow. You weren’t there. And I know. I’ve been there. But you gotta break out of that line of thinking. It’s only going to lead to something worse.”

I stare at her. 

"How?" I hear myself ask in a small voice. I'm focusing on her. I won't let myself zone out. I can't let myself do it.

"Kate, I'm not sure what to do." I let myself look her in the eye. "Help," I say quietly.

“I’m here,” she says. “I’m here.”

I suck in a breath, one after another. 

God, just let me not lose my mind.

“Hey. We’re here. We’re here together. You should try to eat something. Trust me. It’ll help.” 

I stare at my plate before nodding.

After a moment, I look up again.

"Kelley doesn't know about Martine," I say softly. "I'm not quite ready to tell her yet."

“I won’t tell her anything you don’t want her to know,” she says. “That’s your story to tell. Just know I’m here.”

I look her in the eye and squeeze her hand. 

"I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you, Kate."

This time, she grins, tucking into her lobster with zero abandon. “On that one,” she says, gesturing a little with the lobster, “Blame Kelley. Actually, we can just blame Kelley for everything. She probably deserves it. Did she _tell _you what she did for my bachelorette party? God. She just knows exactly what you need and how to do it. She’s fucking weird, and a bit insane, but by God, do I want her in my corner. And trust me, she’s in your corner.” 

I groan. "The only thing she told me about the bachelorette party was she fully intended to see if she could get you to stroke out before the wedding. It was out of context, and it was with that manic grin. And contrary to popular belief, I do hold some value for my life sometimes, so I didn't ask." 

I laugh as I attack the shrimp.

I freeze. 

"Kate," I say lowly, dangerously quiet.

“Crockett,” she says. “What’s up. Tell me what’s going on.” None of them are questions. 

I give her a look filled with regret and honest panic.

I scramble for my bag, as Kate's phone lights up. 

I pull out my own phone, and I see it. 

"37 missed calls: Kelley."

Kate looks at me in deep fear, then she busts out laughing. She covers her mouth as she laughs, because she nearly scares herself. 

“You need to call her. Immediately. Maybe put her on speaker. I need it.”

I swallow in dread. 

"This…. Okay. I can do this."

I hit call, place it on speaker, and set the phone on the table. 

Kelley picks up almost immediately. 

_"Crockett! 'Kett, are you okay? Are you hurt? I heard about Gaffney, are you okay?"_

I can't get a word in edgewise, but I hear her desperation. 

"Kel- Kelley!!" I say, and she stops with a sob. "I'm okay," I say, looking to Kate for help.

“Yo, Kel! We’re good. I’ve got him. Everything’s fine. I’m sorry we didn’t call earlier.” She cringes at me, almost comically. “We’re all fine. Seriously.”

_"I heard about it from Jay when he stopped by, I've been trying to reach you since, Marcel!"_

Oh. 

_Oh._

Oh I'm in trouble. 

She used the last name. 

Not good. 

_"I thought something had happened to you, and Lanik said he hadn't seen you since! Why didn't you call? Never mind. You're with Kate. We'll talk when you get home."_

I grin at Kate. 

"Kelley, I'm okay. I'll be home a bit later tonight, okay?"

When she agrees, I sigh in relief. 

_"Also hi ,Kate," _Kelley says through the phone, her chipper self once more.

“Love you, babe!” She says, forcing a smile, like she knows she’s going to get a barrage of texts fairly soon. 

I wince. 

"Hey Kelley, I have to go, I'll see you when you get off shift, okay?" I try to herd the conversation to an end. 

_"I'll see you then," _she says, I just know I'm going to get a decent lecture when I get home. 

I hang up and duck my head into my hands. 

"It's not enough I was almost murdered this morning, I'm going to get murdered when I walk in the door," I groan. 

I clasp a hand on his shoulder. “Crockett, I know shit has been bad. Shit has… it’s sucked. I know it’s hard to remember the good in the middle of all the bad, but that’s why you got people. You’ve got me, you’ve got Kelley. You’ve got Mouse, as long as he doesn’t break my GTA save,” she mutters the last part under her breath. “I know it’s hard to believe, but the echo, it’s not as strong as the initial blast. Each time it hits you, it’ll be weaker than the last. And it may hit, but like a wave, it’ll recede. I know you’re stuck in… in a maelstrom, but all storm systems dissipate. Even the biggest, strongest ones become tropical storms, and then become cloudless sky. It’ll take time. It’ll take… it’ll take a disaster crew, sometimes. But the clean up is always easier with that crew.”

I know this is not the thing I should be taking from her speech. But I can't help it. I can't. 

"Number one," I say, pulling a face. "'Maelstrom?' That's the best word you could come up with? Number two. Disaster crew? You're damn straight I have a disaster crew. You all. You're all friggin' disasters." 

I pull Kate into a sudden hug. 

"I don't know what I did to deserve any of you," I say.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve any of you,” she counters. “Listen, I’d hug you better, but I have lobster… leavings all over my hands. I’m not letting it go to waste, and I’m not gonna slime you. So, I will hug you better once I find, what, like, a wet nap or something. And that’s fair. I am a damn disaster.”

"You sweet summer child," I scoff. "I may be a trauma surgeon, but Cavanagh, Gerwitz, _whatever, _I started as an emergency doctor and don't you forget it. I got slimed on the daily. And nightly. I worked every damn shift. Still do. I still work triple shifts sometimes." 

I just laugh.


	6. Someone Said You Was Asking After Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett goes on another of his countless binges, only to be stopped by Maggie, Kate, and Kelley. Maybe not stopped. Maybe just put on pause.  
Kelley faces the weirdest situation of her career so far, and that's not even including the jungle cat in the abandoned house fire. No, it's the animal control officer that comes to rescue her—a Thomas "Raz" Rasmussen. As she starts to confront the feelings she has for him, Kate drops some huge life news.

_If I could've just have kept the last of my clothes on_

**November 23, 2019** **   
** **2039 Hours** **   
** **Lilly's, 2513 North Lincoln Avenue** **   
** **Crockett**

I slam the shot glass down, eyes watering as I down the booze. God, I missed this. I missed it a lot. Didn't realize how much. 

I order another Old Fashioned, glancing around the bar for a lark, trying to see if anyone catches my eye as I nearly pound my drink. There’s a few, naturally, but there’s a dark haired thirty something at the other end of the bar. He looks like he’s drinking whiskey, nearly out of the bottle. His eyes glint in the low light as he winks at me. 

I drop my eyes, then look back at him, almost over my shoulder, giving him a grin. 

He nods his head to the empty stool next to him, taking a long drink from his glass. In the dark, hell, he almost looks like Connor for a brief moment. 

I head over, slipping onto the stool next to him. "Hey, handsome," I say lowly.

He chuckles. “ _ That’s _ your opener? I’m a little disappointed.”

I shrug. "I ain't drunk enough to be smart or coy with words yet. I just get blunt." 

He waves down the bartender. “Another Old Fashioned, and bring the bourbon bottle,” he orders. The bartender gives him a little nod. “Then we’ll just have to fix that, don’t you think?”

I give him a little smile, nudging him with my shoulder. "Ain't you a gentleman?"

“Well, that’s more like it. Never been much to focus on looks. But thankfulness, that’s more my speed. Tell me, what’s got you out the weekend before Thanksgiving, going hunting for someone to love?”

I shrug a little, letting my jacket slip down one shoulder. "Can't a boy be lonely? Just lookin' around for a little bit'a fun and lovin'."

He chuckles. For the first time, it’s a little dark. I can’t bring myself to mind. “Pardon me for saying, but you don’t look like the type to want ‘lovin’.”

"I use it in the lightest sense'a the word," I breathe, leaning in a bit. 

“See, I’m looking for some fun, but definitely  _ not _ loving.”

"You'd find that I'm certainly up for…  _ fun,"  _ I almost purr, looking up at him from under my lashes, running a finger around the rim of my glass. The bartender brings over the nearly full bottle of bourbon and another glass. 

“Why don’t we sit for a while first?” He asks, pushing the new drink towards me. “Get to know each other.”

"A gentleman indeed," I say, toasting him with my new glass. "To... hmm."

“To being thankful and having fun,” he says, clinking his glass against mine. 

"Ain't that the truth." I take a drink, giving him a grin. Hey, this might be okay.

* * *

It’s more than okay. Hell, three hours later, and I’m finally coming down from a bit of the high of the alcohol. Or this guy’s bed. I don’t know. I don’t care. 

But whatever it is, he’s done with me, so it seems. He tosses my shirt at me as he stretches out in bed. 

“I can give you cab fare if you need it.”

I tug my shirt on, and my jacket as I glance at him. "Nah, I'm okay. Hell, you paid for what, three, four drinks'a mine? I can pay you back if you'd like."

“I think you’ve paid me back enough,” he chuckles. I nod, giving him a grin. 

"Solid nine and a half," I sing as I slip my shoes on.

“Nine and a half? I don’t even get the full ten?” He says, pouting a little.

"Maybe nine and three quarters," I amend, blowing him a kiss. He gives me another wink. 

“You  _ almost _ made me rethink my rules,” He says, wiping his nails on his sheets. “But nah. Keep the mystery. Would you grab a water from the fridge before you leave? You’re still wasted.”

"Aww, thanks for bein' a gentleman through and through," I say with a smile. "Have a good one." 

He gives me finger guns. “Keep the mystery, man. Keep the mystery. Stay safe out there! Gettin’ snowy.”

"I'll be good!" I head down the hall, bypassing the fridge entirely as I hum. Huh. Yeah, I'm a little drunk, I think, a fact that's evident as I misjudge the distance and the lip between the interior floor and the hall. 

“You good?!” He calls out from his bedroom. 

"Uh, will- will be. Just a sec, I'll be outta your hair." 

“I called a cab, should be here in five!”

"Thank you!" I finally pick myself up off the floor. "I'm out, have a good night."

“Good night! Stay safe and warm!”

I smile as I head down the hall, and I absolutely  _ tank  _ it on the stairs. Fuck. Ow. I need a second. Cab. I need to get to the cab. Well, I'm a little drunk, and well fucked. 

I finally make it to the cab, sliding in with an 'oof'. 

“Ah, shoulda known. Fourth one this week. And where are you headed tonight?”

"210 South Desplaines," I say, rubbing a hand over my face with a sigh. 

“Hey, you okay?” He asks. “You’re bleedin’.”

"Hmm?" I try to feel it out, and there's a decent sized cluster of cuts on the right side of my face, and I groan. "Shit. Can you take me to Gaffney, then? Too drunk to stitch myself up."

“Uh, sure,” the driver says. “Either this happens often, or you’re qualified, at any rate, I’d rather you not bleed in my cab, may I offer you a napkin?”

"Thanks. Uh, and honestly… all of the above." I press the napkin to my face with a wince. "Well, damn."

“5D ain’t the type to beat ya up, so I’m assumin’ it was the ice, huh?” He asks, handing me another one. 

"Yeah, I tanked it." I try to ignore the rest of it, but hey, at least I was in good hands, I muse. In good hands and even better-

“Yeah, well, he’s a bit of a frequent flyer, if you catch my drift. Two minutes to Gaffney, give or take. You want me to call someone, or….?”

"Ah, nah," I grimace. "I'll make it home. But thanks. And hey, he ain't the only frequent flyer."

He pulls me up under the awning of the ED. “Well, your chariot, man. Enjoy your stay, I guess?”

I chuckle, sliding out carefully and paying in cash. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

He gives me a little salute as I hear a holler from the waiting room. 

“The  _ hell _ did you do?!” 

I wince. Oh no. She's gonna have my head. "Hey, Mags. Tanked it on ice."

She pulls me in, past the somehow empty waiting room, looking around and practically shoving me into a treatment room before shutting the curtain swiftly. 

“Sit down. You smell like sex and booze.”

I can't help the snort. "That obvious?" 

She glares, pulling my jacket off and already starting a line. “To me, maybe. To the others, well, I’m not even gonna let them see. I don’t want them to have more reason to think you’re off your rocker.”

"Ah, well, aren't we all?" I just watch her, letting it all course through my bloodstream. "Had some fun."

“Safely, I hope,” she says, and I see her blurrily move to clean up the cuts on my head. 

"Hmm? Aw, Mags. Always. Ow. Little wasted."

“What, you want pain killers on top of all this? Just stay still, I’ll be careful. You won’t remember it hurting, anyway.”

I hum a bit. "Indeed I won't. Thank you. Yahoo."

She sets to work. “You gotta get this under control, Crockett,” she sighs. “This ain’t good. You’re gonna ride this train to ruin.”

"What? Aw, I ain't done shit like this for months. I'm okay, just wanted a little bit'a fun."

“After the infection, and after the shooting, you really think I’m going to believe you just wanted a little bit of fun?”

I pout a bit. "Yeah, actually. It's been a lot to deal with. Wanted some fun and not have to think." I yawn lazily, grinning dopeily at the floor. "Didn't have to think. Just the high of the bourbon and the roughhousin'."

“More than just roughhousing,” she sighs. “LIsten, I love you, so I wouldn’t say this kind of thing if I didn’t, but you need to check yourself before you wreck yourself.”

I give her a little smile. "It's a one off, Mags. Ain't done it for a long time. I'm okay." 

She gives me a severe look, then finishes off. “There. Stitches in a few. I bandaged them up, but I’ll need to check them when you’re here. I’m just worried about you. I don’t need you going off half cocked, alright?”

I touch a hand to hers gently. "It ain't like before. I promise. Once. I'm safe. It ain't the benders like before." 

She wraps her fingers in mine. “I’d rather not see those benders, if I have my say. I’d rather you not have to go on them.” 

"I'll be okay, Maggie. I promise. Just needed to decompress." 

“Fine, fine. I get it. I do. Just don’t decompress you compress yourself again, yeah?” She sighs. “Do you want me to call anyone?”

"I'm okay, gonna call a cab home." I hope off the bed, giggling. "I think I have missed calls. Ah, well. Woah, drunk brain."

She scrambles to undo the line. “I swear, you turn into a child. Give me a moment.. There.” With a sigh, she pulls me into a hug. “Don’t be stupid. I know that’s like telling you not to breathe, but at least give it a shot.”

I hold my breath comically, letting my eyes bug out before giving up and kissing her cheek. "Gonna go home and dream about-"

“No, nope, I do not need to know more than what I already know. I know enough. You do you, and you do… whoever, but I do not need to know.”

"Love you, Maggie!" Hell, I nearly manage to tank it against the nursing station on my way out. I just hear her sigh heavily. 

“One step in front of the other, Marcel!”

"Ha! Never!" 

When I turn around to say that, I just see Ophelia giving me a dirty look. Monique rolls her eyes, sure, but she glares at Ophelia harder. I give them both a grin and finger guns. 

"Night, ladies!" 

Monique calls something to me, but hell, I’m still too drunk to hear it as I head back out into the cold. 

I bounce around as I call for a cab, curling my hands into my pockets as I wait. God, I can barely walk straight. I just start giggling harder. 

By the time I get home, I realize I still haven’t checked my phone. I’ve felt my phone. I’ve been aware that my phone has gone off. But I realize I did not yet check it. 

Uh oh. Whoops. 

I can barely get my key into the lock when the door swings open. I see Kate standing there, arms crossed. 

"Oops?" I offer, giving her a grin. "Surprise."

She blinks, shaking her head. “I don’t even know what level we’re at in our relationship, but I do know you’ve scared the shit out of Kelley, so enjoy,” she says, gesturing me inside. “Kel, he’s here, and it looks like he’s queer, so we might just have to get over it.”

I realize Kelley’s on the couch, and she's… uh oh. She's angry knitting.

Oops. 

"Hey, Kel," I say, coming over to kiss her cheek. She glances up at me sharply. 

"You  _ reek.  _ Where the hell were you?" 

"A bar, and then a bed," I say breezily, heading for the fridge. "In several different ways."

“Oh, Jesus,” Kate mutters. “Okay, well, see, he’s fine, I told you he was just drinking it off.”

Kelley looks nearly livid. "You- you…" she grumbles to herself as she goes back to her work. "Drinking and sleeping it off, apparently." 

I just grin, pulling myself up on the counter before almost losing my balance again.

“Now, I would love to go back to my husband, so are you two going to be okay here?” Kate asks, exasperated.

I wave at her as I smack into the wall, fumbling at my bedroom door. I can just barely overhear Kelley. 

"Sorry, Kate, I just…" she sighs. "I'm sorry."

“What? Nah. I’ve been there. We’ve all been there. Give him some time before you lay into him, yeah?” she sighs too. “Need to find him a woman or a man or… a person to help keep him in line, or something.”

"I'm just worried. I'll wait, yeah."

“At least until he’s sober,” she sighs. “If he’ll ever be sober. I worry about him, you know.”

"You and me both. Give him about a day, he'll feel guilty and I won't even have to get mad."

“Yeah. Yeah, that too. That… that too.” She drifts off, almost like she’s about to say something else, but stops. “If you need me, call me, okay?”

"Yeah, I will. I love you," Kelley says softly. "Tell Mouse hey."

“Of course. He loves you, you know.”

"And I love him, helluva lot. Hey, I owe him food at some point, remind him to pick a place." 

“Will do,” she says. “I will. I’ll check in with you in the morning. Don’t… don’t let him boot and rally.”

"I'll do my best. I'll have to get up at four to try and beat him." 

“Yeah, well, I mean… I can stop by before I head to work. We’ve got drills tomorrow. Yeah. On a weekend. Fuckin’ sucks, but it is what it is. Yeah. We’ll stop by.”

"Okay. Love you."

“Love you. Love you both,” Kate says, and I hear the door shut. Kelley sighs, and I flop on my bed. 

"'Kett, bud, you still awake?" 

I don't want to be after hearing them now. I just curl up, trying to look like I'm asleep. 

She pauses at the door, quiet for a moment before sighing and walking away. 

I'm gonna get hell later, I know it.

* * *

_Tell me your name, is it sweet? _

**December 3, 2019  
** **1342 Hours   
** **House 51, 1350 S. Blue Island Ave., Chicago   
** **Kelley**

"Animal?"

"Sheep," I say, bored. 

"Uh…. Body part," Ritter says, and I scoff. "Don't be crude again, please," he pleads as Capp opens his mouth.

"Ritter, with all due respect," I say finally. "I'm pretty sure we're bored, even after ten pages of Mad Libs."

I can hear Cruz's laugh behind me, and I turn around to grin at him. “Hey, don’t look at me,” he says, holding up his hands. “I’m not gettin’ into this.”

“We could… play a board game or something?” Sylvie suggests, perking up. 

“No,” Kidd adds. “No, last time we played Clue, it ended in near blows.”

“Tony was cheating,” Capp calls out. 

“Was not!”

I groan, looking at the ceiling. 

As if answering my silent prayer, the tones drop and I bounce to my feet. I'm right behind Ritter the second I hear "Engine 51." 

Anything to get away from Mad Libs. 

Wait. What the hell was the call? 

“Abandoned building fire, 1929 South Racine,” Ritter calls over his shoulder. “Finally! I don’t know if I could have done another Mad Lib!”

I hop in the truck, and Clarence bolts out the door. We're right behind Squad, and we're ready and raring to go. 

I'm bouncing in my seat and Herrmann shoots me a look. I calm down. Can't piss him off. 

I shoot him a wink and he rolls his eyes. 

When we roll up, we're out and ready. And the building—the house, or at least, it used to be—is nearly engulfed. And it’s already threatening the houses to the left and right. 

Casey is already barking out his orders, and Herrmann starts to do the same.

"Ritter, Marcks, start runnin' lines! We need enough to knock this thing down if we gotta. Clarence, set her up."

I start yanking hoses from the truck, Ritter fitting them as I lay them. 

I glance up. "Lieutenant," I yell. "Flames getting awful close to right side house!"

"Get ready to wash her down then!"

I nod at Ritter as we get enough hoses ready to go. I see Herrmann’s signal and we start blasting the roof, trying to get it cooled down, get the flames threatening the next house before we even start thinking about fighting the fire in this one.

_ “Chief, we’ve got… “ _ Casey starts, but he trails off. “ _ The house is clear except for a…” _

“_ Call Animal Control! _ ” Mouch takes over. “ _ It’s a fuckin’ jungle cat!” _

I see, through the flames on the roof, the massive paws of what appears to be a leopard ripping itself out of the A frame. 

And it looks terrified. And it looks like it’s going to run.

“We gotta get that thing under control—” Boden says, “Dispatch, we need Animal Control, and we need them ASAP!”

I eye the scared animal. I eye the house next door, the fencing, the roof above the door, the window panes, the low corners of the roof. 

“Chief!” I call out. He turns and I think the look on my face already gives him a few gray hairs.

"I could distract the thing, lure it into the next yard over. There’s enough cover there, maybe I can half corral it long enough for Animal Control to show up." It's a long damn short but I might work.

Boden breathes, he takes a single moment to breathe in and out, closing his eyes before looking back to me. “Do not make me regret this.”

I salute him quickly, more as a saucy "you will anyway" gesture than real. 

I stare at the cat, and I waver for one moment, ignoring Herrmann's angry words to Boden behind me. 

I make up my mind and vault the fence, waving my arms and making as much high pitched noise as I can. When the cat looks over at me, I up the noise, retreating a bit farther into the yard. 

When the cat leaps, I step back. 

And when the cat looks like it's going to come my way, I get in line with the roof's overhang over the fence, and I bolt. I sprint through it and the cat follows. And then I realize something. 

I have a maybe 2 foot space I can squeeze into, but no way to get out. The cat's going to trap me. 

_ “Marcks, you good back there?” _ Ritter’s voice comes over the radio. But I’m staring down what Mouch called a ‘fucking jungle cat’, so I’m not sure how to even answer that question. 

“Define good,” I say back. It’s already trying to circle me. “Hey, Chief, you got a 20 on that Animal Control officer?”

I hear him ask over the radio. A voice that sounds adjacent to familiar comes over. “_ Two minutes out, Chief.” _

That leopard keeps inching closer. I step back once more. I don't have much room behind me to keep going, and there's no way I'll fit in the tiny gap between the roof and the fence. No way. I'm small but not that small. Gear notwithstanding. So I'm stuck.

I don't even know if I should look this thing in the eye or not. I don't want to set it off. 

"Seriously, I think Animal Control can show up. Like, now," I say, and I try to push back as far as I can.

_ “He’s here,” _ Boden says over the radio. I can see the water from the hose dousing the flames in the current situation, but I’m still dealing with mine. 

And then the single Animal Control officer—really? Just one? It’s a fucking jungle cat—eases his way into the backyard. When I say eases, he jumps over the fence almost gracefully, like a figure skater. The long gun—the tranquilizer gun—in his hands almost looks like it’s meant to be there. Who the hell—

And then he takes his baseball cap and turns it around. Wait, I’ve seen that before. 

“You good?” He calls out to me. Calmly. Not to spook the animal. But still, as he waits for my response, he aims.

Oh my sweet baby Moses. 

"Yeah- yeah I'm good!" I call, watching him. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do. Do I stand there awkwardly? Do I make myself invisible? What the hell?!

“Don’t move,” he says, circling the animal, making his way to me. He gets between me and this damn leopard. “Don’t move,” he repeats, he whispers, and then he takes the shot. And he waits, he waits for the tranquilizer to take effect, and soon, the leopard starts to snarl. 

It just starts growling. 

“Well, I expected this,” he says under his breath, pushing back into me. “Don’t move, don’t breathe, just wait.”

I cringe as I hear the warning beep. 

"Hey, uh," I whisper. "My motion alarm is gonna go off. It's supposed to beep after like, 30 seconds. To let people know if I'm dead or some shit. Just warning you. Gonna go in like, five seconds."

“Well, it could take up to ten minutes for this thing to kick in, so, we gotta come up with a plan B, don’t we?” He looks over his shoulder at me, grinning widely. Almost… like he’s enjoying it.

Oh shit. I know that grin. 

Almost on cue, my alarm starts wailing. 

“_ Marcks, call out!” _ Boden says immediately over the radio. He waves me off, even with the alarm wailing. 

“If you move, can you turn it off?” He hisses.

That leopard is trying its hardest to come at him.

"No I can't, I need someone else to disarm it or I gotta… or I gotta twerk," I mutter embarrassed, hoping he didn't actually hear that. 

“How fast can you run?” He seems to joke, stepping backwards as the leopard snarls.

I shrug. "I'm stuck here, so I can run, but y'know… blonde, sorta dumb, I have bad ideas sometimes, so…." I trail off. The alarm continues to wail. 

“Well, I have bad ideas sometimes, and I have a bad one right now, so get ready,” he says, setting down his tranq gun. He starts to carefully circumvent the leopard, and now it’s facing towards me.

Hell, he just said he had a bad idea, so fuck yeah I'm in. 

"What- what do I do?" I hiss. "Dude, I need instructions_ . _ I'm _ blonde_."

“Run for the fence. Get the hell out of this backyard. Straight shot, right where I came in. Got it?”

Oh shit what's he doing…. Is he going to try to take on this thing himself? 

Still…

"And leave you here?" I ask him, wondering what the hell he's thinking. Or not thinking, as the case may be.

He shrugs. “Not the worst case scenario. On the count of three, go, alright? One—” He readies himself, and I see he’s got a wire snare in his hands. “Two—” And when he looks at me, there’s a squint of recognition. It slips away just as fast. “Three!”

Oh shit, okay then. 

I bolt for the fence, and once I'm clear, I flat tire onto the pavement. Once I scramble to my feet, I see him, hat on the ground, straddling the fucking jungle cat, the wire snare firmly around its neck. It’s finally started to calm down, and I hear his voice on the radio and in real time as he calls for backup. 

“Dispatch, can we get another animal control officer out here? I’m gonna need some backup to get this leopard into the truck.” He hasn’t moved his left hand from the neck of the leopard, and it finally stops struggling. Drawing a breath through his teeth, he looks at his right arm. It doesn’t look severe, but the leopard definitely tried to chomp on his arm.

Oh shit. 

"You okay?" I call as Herrmann appears behind me, disarming my PASS. 

“Is the fire out?” I ask, and Herrmann just nods. With that, I pull my helmet off, and my hair comes out of my turnout gear as I lean over the fence. 

With that, the look of recognition from before shifts to a wide grin on his face, even as the blood drips down his arm.

"Thanks for the assist, Raz," I call, smiling back at him. 

Damn… he's kinda… kinda cute. Even cuter than before. Damn. 

I've seen him on ice. Seen him in a suit. But somehow he's never been this cute. 

I'm a little floored. And I have no goddamn filter. 

"Tommy!" I yell again, waiting for his attention. He’s still smiling. He’s been attacked by a leopard, and he’s just… smiling. 

“Kelley, you never told me you were such a badass!” He calls back. The other animal control officer brushes past, groaning a little. 

“Dammit, Rasmussen, not again,” she mutters. Raz doesn’t even flinch. She just helps him lift the leopard, albeit with his grimace, and he just… takes it. They carry it to the fence, and he leaps over it again, allowing for the other officer to join him. “Hey, you got your ambo here?” He says. Herrmann takes over for him, carrying the… fucking jungle cat.

I grab his hand and yank him towards the Ambo. "Brett!" I call, drawing it out, and I'm grinning like a maniac at him. He's flushed and just so goddamn beautiful to me. 

"C'mon. Brett! Can you pretty please check him up?" I say, batting my eyes at her. She eyes me, then eyes him, and finally makes the connection. 

“Wait. Raz, right? From Kate and Greg’s wedding.”

He just nonchalantly shrugs. “Yeah, that’s me,” he says. “You’re Sylvie. Tilly—Kate talks about you a lot. Like, kind of a ton. Hey, you think you could check this bite out for me?” He says, pulling his arm gently out of his jacket. Sylvie starts to roll up his shirt sleeve, which is nearly torn to shreds, and she looks it over. 

“You’re lucky,” she says. “Didn’t hit anything bad, but you should probably get to Gaffney anyway. You up to date on your shots?”

“The way that boy gets attacked, he’s up to date on everything!” The other officer calls, heading for the cab of her own truck. 

And Raz, he just looks like an innocent little boy who had gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. 

“You’re a bit known for this behavior, aren’t you?” Sylvie infers.

“A couple of them still call me Steve Irwin,” he admits, smirking at me.

I snort. "You probably deserve it," I say, still gazing at him. "You look nice," I whisper dreamily before I realize what I've said. 

Oh shit.

“And you’re a badass!” My heart jumps. He heard it, and that’s his response? “When were you gonna tell us you were a firefighter? ‘Cause that’ll go a long way with AK. He might yell at you less if he knew the shit you’ve done. This was awesome.”

“You got bit by a leopard,” Foster deadpans, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches Sylvie at least wrap up the wound. 

“I got attacked by a coyote once,” he offers. “I was out for two months after that one. And then there was… well, that doesn’t count. That was just Kate.”

I blink. "'Just Kate"? Tommy, what the hell?" 

I can't stop staring at him. “Yeah, Kate. She had been with us about a year. I think it was… January, last year? 2018. We were in practice, and this was before the no chirping rule. She said some choice words to me, and I said them back, and she came at me, so I had to destroy her. Except… no one knew she was a Vet until like, six months later, and she completely kicked my ass.” His Chicago accent comes out strong. He almost sounds like Mouse for a second. “I had broken ribs, one more hit and she would have broke my jaw. I was in the hospital two days after.”

Sounds like Kate, honestly. 

I blink, and my hand is… it's touching his jaw? 

I yank it back. That was weird. He'll think I'm coming onto him. That's… I mean, I would. 

I try to pay attention to what he's saying.

And he doesn’t even bat an eye. He just points out the long scar on the right side of his face. It cuts down his chin. “Yeah, her skate hit me. Blood everywhere. I think they called fire and rescue to drag me out. I don’t remember much. I was nearly catatonic. It was hilarious.”

Sylvie just looks at the two of us with wide eyes. “You should probably just ride with us to Gaffney,” she says. 

"Tommy-" I say, and my voice is about ten decibels higher than I mean. "You- I- that was you?"

He squints. And then his eyes widen. They’re so hazel. I never noticed that before. In the Chicago half-sun of winter, they almost look light green. “Holy shit! Nah, no way. You were on that call?! It took like, four of your guys to pull her off’a me! They were afraid I was gonna be in a coma!”

"_I_ was afraid of that," I say softly, and I can't stop looking at him. I need to stop or I'll do something I'll regret. 

My hand reaches back out, the damn traitor, and I trace the scar gently. "I'm glad you're okay," I whisper. 

“Marcks!” Herrmann yells. “Get your ass back here, we’re headed back!”

I linger. “Good… good save today,” I mutter, still unable to move my hand from the scar. Kate had done that? Really? “An idiot move for sure, but still. Thanks.”

“Not the dumbest thing I’ve done,” he says. “Not the dumbest thing I’m ever gonna do. Hey, what firehouse are you with?”

"51," I say. I try and drink in his eyes. They're delicious. "I should… I should go," I'm whispering, and then I don't think. I lean forward and brush a kiss onto the top of his nose. 

As I walk away, and I try to get rid of the blush in my cheeks, I hear his voice after a large bout of stuttering. 

“You’re a badass, Kelley Marcks!”

I stop, but I don't turn around. 

"I know," I yell back. "And you're fuckin' adorable!" 

I _ swear _I meant to say "weird." At any rate, I look over to the backyard where the leopard nearly ate both Tommy and I, and I see his hat. I vault the fence once more, go to retrieve it, but when I get back to the street, the ambo is gone. 

I pick up my helmet, and look over the hat. It’s got the Chicago seal on the front, with block text underneath that says “Animal Care and Control”. The back, on the strap, in small letters is embroidered ‘Rasmussen’. 

I put it backwards on my head and run towards the rig.

* * *

_ Dance with me, just for the hell of it? _ _  
_ **December 7, 2019** **  
** **0823 Hours** **  
** **Lakefront Trails, Chicago** **  
** **Kate**

Kelley is a maniac. Why she's trying to run backwards in front of me, I don't even know.

"Kate, c'mon. Let's go! Faster!" She's like an obnoxious track coach.

“I hate you. I hate you so much. You’re the worst. I’m old, remember?!” I’m only half out of breath. But I’ll take it. Considering the last six months, I’ll take her manic behavior. At least I know she’s out and about and on her feet.

But I’m about to not be on my feet if we’re not careful. 

“Kelley! Kelley, c’mon. Just let me… let me breathe.” I jog to a stop. She comes back, and she's in front of me. 

"You good, old-timer?" 

“No, you’re too fast, and my knees are creaky,” I say, sinking down to a bench. I at least brush the snow off first. “It’s cold. I’m old. You’re insane, but I can’t keep up anymore. Gettin’ too old, Marcks!” I call out into the void.

She goes around me to the empty end of the bench and I suddenly know what she's about to do. 

She rears back and tries to vault the bench. I move out of the way fast enough, but when I turn around, she’s catapulted herself into a snowbank. 

“You’re going to be wet and cold until we get home.”

"Better than sweaty and gross. This is my shower, Kate. I'm from Canada. This is normal. This is the… the song of my people."

“You are… so fucking weird,” I find myself sighing. Instead, I stare out onto the frozen lake, past the twenty-something Canadian doing a snow angel.

"You about done?" Kelley calls.

“Done with what, exactly? Done with this run? Done with… you—” I scoop up a ball of snow and throw it at her face. “Or done with all this confusion?” I add with a quiet sigh.

She sits up, wiping snow off her face. "I meant your internal monologue, but gotta unpack this now. What are you confused about?"

“Well, I… I have an opportunity I never thought I had. Not until UIC finally told me. And now I’m not sure what I’m doing.” 

She's sitting beside me in a heartbeat.

"Start talking, Kate."

“Well, you know I’ve been with UIC for… God, almost four years now. I’ve taken on ROTC in that time, and I’ve also… I’ve been essentially taking courses. One or two every semester, you know. I’ve only got my bachelors, so I wanted to stay on my toes. And ever since I started, they’ve been keeping track.” I sigh. “I only need three colloquiums, dissertation prep, and my thesis, and I can get my doctorate. My Ph D.”

"Kate! You're so close! I never even saw this coming," she says but she's bouncing excitedly. "Kate, that's so cool!"

“You and me both,” I admit. “I was just… I was trying to stay on top of things, you know? And then they tell me this… I’m already on track. I’m taking additional courses this next semester. They’ve got a new professor coming in, and she’s going to be my advisor, for lack of better terms. I mean, by May 2021, I could walk. I could be Dr. …. Dr. Gerwitz.”

She squeals, her arms going around me. 

"You're amazing," she whispers.

“I’m doing my best,” I say, leaning my head onto hers. “Between this, and the house hunt… at least I know if I have my doctorate, I’ll be making a helluva lot more money…”

Her eyebrows wiggle. "Money… house… babies…." She giggles.

“Yeah, exactly,” I say, almost absentmindedly. 

She chokes on air. 

"Are you serious….?" She hugs me tighter, refusing to let up.

“What, about babies? I mean. Yeah. Yes, we are. I’m not getting any younger. If we… if we want to do this, we’re going to have to do this… soon. Soon, Kelley. What the fuck am I saying? God.”

She giggles, and she's starting to get wiggly.

"I'm gonna be an aunt," she whispers to herself, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

“Yeah, speaking of interesting and possibly horrible ideas, what’s this I hear about you and Raz? And that damn call? Don’t even try to tell me a lie, you told Mouse and Mouse told me.”

She smiles, a little sheepish. "I did what I had to do? I got chased by a _ leopard_, Kate. That's so cool." She ignores the first question completely.

“Rewind to Raz. I had no idea he was an animal control officer. That’s the first time you guys have crossed paths?!”

She nods. "Yeah! Kate, he's so good at his job, and he just—" she waves her hands, words replaced by unintelligible noises.

I lean into her, then snatch the baseball cap from her head. “Why are you wearing his hat, then?”

She goes pale, reaching to snatch it back. "No—Kate, give it—“ 

“What kind of game you playin’ with that boy? You’re dancing with him at my wedding, you’re flirting with him at practice, you steal his hat on a call… you’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

"I don't flirt at practice!" She cries, indignant. 

I put the hat back on her head, backwards, so I can see “Rasmussen” in capital letters. “Listen,” I say, letting my voice get quiet. “Seriously. If you’re feelin’ something for this kid, you need to go after it. I know it’s scary. I know you’ve been through some shit. I think… well, I think he’s insane, and I think you’re insane, but if there’s something there… and I really think there is, after seeing you two dancing at my wedding… he seems to be a good match for you. And It seems like the universe is trying to tell you that, too.”

She pouts, but her eyes go soft. 

"Tommy is really sweet, Kate," she whispers, a goofy grin on her face. "And really cute."

“And gainfully employed, and with healthy hobbies,” I say, bumping into her. “And he makes you laugh. He makes you laugh like I’ve never heard you laugh.”

She giggles, and there's genuine… something, in her eyes. "I like him, Kate. I didn't realize how much."

“Then what’s the damn problem?!”

"He's clueless. I accidentally just…. _ Touched _him!" She cries. "I just reached out and fondled his face, Kate! And I kissed his nose!" 

“The fuck did he say?!” I ask, turning towards her. This is so much better than running at this point. 

"I kissed his nose and I ran, I didn't stay, but he yelled that I was a badass, and then I saw his hat in the yard and I went to get it. But I got back to the street and the ambo was gone." She's blushing.

“Oh my God, Kelley. He wants you. He wants you somethin’ fierce.”

She hides her face in her hands. "How do you know?" She wails.

“I am significantly older than you. Trust me. I know.”

She looks at me from one eye. "You think I should ask him out?"

“Yes!” I cry into the heavens. “Yes, for the love of God, yes! Ask him out! He seems a little too clueless to do it himself!”

She hums. "That's… that's a good idea. Listen, what if he came out with us?"

“Yes. Absolutely. I’ve always loved the weirdo. Just… never had a reason to hang out outside of practice and games. But now we have a reason, yeah?”

She's got that sappy smile again. "Yeah. Yeah we do. I do."

I stand up, bouncing a little on my feet. “Hey, you wanna make a break for the Bridgeport? I could use some chicken and waffles.”

"Oh hell yeah, old woman!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter and scene titles are from "Chelsea Dagger" by The Fratellis.


	7. To My Knees You Do Promote Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett sees more than he bargains for when the Gerwitzes try to give him a boxing lesson.

**December 10, 2019** **   
** **1508 Hours** **   
** **Boxing Gym, East Pilsen** **   
** **Crockett**

My bag on my back, I check the address on my phone. 

As I step in, I see Kate and Mouse. And I honestly thought they were supposed to be training, not… that. 

It's not fighting, it's a dance. And it is decidedly sexual. 

I back away, and I'm dialing Kelley as I try to scrub the image from my mind. And preferably off the back of my eyelids. 

I'm talking almost before she picks up.

"Kelley, listen, help me, because-"

"Are you okay?" She half screams through the phone, and I shake my head. 

I peek back in and  _ they're not done.  _

"Kelley, they're training, and I am decidedly uncomfortable with the way-" 

"You walked in on what I call the "I'm a fucker, not a fighter" routine," I hear her giggle, and I huff. "You're okay though?"

Did she just ask if I'm okay?

"No I am most certainly not okay," I hiss with another peek. Oh,  _ hell _ no.

"Kelley, this is it! My innocence? Gone forever!" I'm half screeching by now, and when all I hear from her is laughing, I hang up. 

I sit down against the wall, and I don't know if I can ever get this out of my head. I need it gone.

* * *

**Mouse**

Even though the owner had made the worst decision in the world, just opening up for us, I hear a noise coming from the hall. I heard it before, but I was… busy, to say the least. When I pop my head out of the boxing ring, I see Crockett, sitting against the wall, looking past everything in a familiar thousand yard stare. 

But this one? I don’t know what he’s seen.

I clear my throat. 

“Uh, Crockett.”

His eyes come up and widen. Suddenly he's trying to look everywhere but at me. 

"Hey- hey, man," he greets quietly. 

“Hey, so, uh, you wanna… you wanna come in for your lesson?” I say, trying desperately to act normal. I should know better than to even try, honestly. I’m just gonna sound more insane than I already am.

"Sure, yeah," he says, swinging his bag off his shoulder. He doesn't even meet my eyes. He looks a bit… shocked. 

I lead him back into the gym, and Kate cracks her neck, still looking a little flushed. 

“Hey, ‘Kett!” She calls out. Oh, God, she’s completely oblivious, rewrapping the tape on her hands and bouncing from foot to foot.

Crockett pretty much turns on his heel. He doesn't look at her or I as he basically spins in a circle for a second. 

"Hey, Kate," he says as he glares at the ceiling, and he sounds half-strangled. 

I try to hide my snorting, but I just slide under the ropes with my wife. My dear, sweet, dirty, oblivious wife. 

“You ready to learn to kick some ass today?” She says with the enthusiasm of a early twenties zumba instructor.

"Hmm," I hear from the still blushing doctor, and i can't wait to give him hell for this later. 

"Yeah, let's- let's do this," he mutters. He faces us, but his eyes are firmly planted on the wall.

“Crockett?” Kate says, circumventing me and going for him. “Crockett, are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

He starts stuttering and screws his eyes shut. "No, no you're fine! You're good-" he takes a step back.

I glare at her, and she just shrugs. My God, she has no clue. Usually I’m the one with no clue. Am I rubbing off on her? Am I dumbing down my wife in social situations? These are all things I’m going to have to unpack later. Maybe while we play Grand Theft Auto. At this point, I’m not sure what’s going through Crockett’s head. Maybe we can distract him.

“Alright, N’awlins, show me what you’re workin’ with.”

He looks like he's actually blue screening. And then he comes at me. His right fist is higher and sloppy, and he's still not looking directly at me.

“First lesson, you gotta use your eyes, you know?” She says. I can’t stop cackling. “Make sure you look at where you’re hittin’ or else, you know, you ain’t gonna hit it.”

God, the longer I listen to her, the more she starts to sound like me. Is that okay? Yeah, sure, that’s fine.

He blushes even harder and this is just getting better. 

"Yeah, alright," he mutters. "Fine, then."

She eggs him on. “C’mon, hit me. I know you want to,” she taunts. I snort. “I can take it.”

I lean against the ropes, watching the insanity unfold.

Crockett just goes pale, and he starts muttering again. "Please don't say that. Not like that. Please."

“What do you want me to say?” She says, dropping her hands. “Alright, hit me. C’mon. Do it.”

He finally just swings at her. She takes it, and she scoffs. 

“C’mon, Crockett. Harder. Do it harder.”

He starts stuttering again, and I'm having way too much fun. He winds back and punches again.

This time, she dodges it. “You’re gonna have to do better than that,” she says, bouncing on her feet. I really want to help him figure out how to smack her in the face, but she’s also antagonizing him so deeply that I’m nearly wheezing. She has no idea, and she just keeps making it worse.

He finally looks at her dead in the eyes and punches first with his left and then comes back with his right. He loses his balance, landing on his knees.

“Alright, Crockett,” I finally step in. “You gotta get a better sense of your balance. You…. you right handed or left handed? Opposite foot forward.”

"Right," he mutters, adjusting accordingly. 

“Use your entire body weight against her,” I say. Then I realize what I’m saying, and I snort a little. “Okay, just. Use your… yeah. I’m gonna stop.”

He finally shoots an agonized look at me before trying to do what I said. 

"You're both crazy," he whispers under his breath.

“Fine, I’m using the Cavanagh Method,” she mutters back and just hauls off and punches him.

His head snaps back, and he staggers a bit. 

He just glares at her, still in shock a bit. 

"'The fuck, Kate?" He exclaims.

Oh boy.

“Bring it, N’awlins!” She says. She’s bouncing again. And she punches at him again. I can literally see his blood pressure increasing. 

He goes red again, and he just lunges at her. His fist goes flying, and he draws back shaking it. He punches again, half-crazy. She dances, around him, past him, waiting for his next attack. But it doesn’t come soon enough, so she gives him the old one-two: right hook, left hook. 

"Fuck you, Gerwitz," he mutters as he lets fly again. His right hand ups into her chin, and the vein just above his eyebrow threatens to burst.

She starts nodding. “Yeah, there we go, there we go. You’re gettin’ the hang of it. Do it again, but harder.”

He loses it. His fist connects with her cheek once, twice, and he actually tackles her to the floor. 

He blinks, like he's surprised.

And Kate loses it too. She starts cackling, losing it until Crockett finally struggles to his feet. 

“That’s it! That’s the kind of violence I need to see!” She says. Actually, she’s got a bit of a cut on her chin. Nothing horrible, but I know she feels it, because she adjusts her jaw. “I knew it was inside you all along.”

He stares at his fist before cracking half an awkward smile. 

"Yeah, alright then," he mutters. He gently inspects the cut on her chin. "Sorry about that."

“Oh, c’mon,” she says. She’s getting crazy eyes, and I don’t know how I feel about it. Might need to excuse Crockett. Well, he’s already seen enough, hasn’t he? “I’m used to it. When we were kids, I’d just fuckin’... I’d rabbit punch a Halstead.”

I immediately face palm. 

Crockett bursts out laughing, and that might be the most normal he's been yet today. 

"Why?" He asks between wheezes.

“Had to keep ‘em on their toes!” She cries. “Constant vigilance, Crockett! Head on a swivel!”

During her little rant, I circumvent her, getting behind her. After her last statement, I pull her into a headlock, and I get decidedly more than I bargained for when she steps behind me and lays me out. In front of Crockett and God and everything. 

“See? Constant vigilance!” She says.

Crockett blinks. "Yep. I… I see that." 

I bounce up to my feet. “So, uh, Crockett, you think you’ve seen enough for today?” I murmur, nearly snorting. 

He groans. 

"Stop it," he pleads, shielding his eyes.. "Just shut the hell up, please!" 

Kate just shrugs, defeated. “Crockett, I’m just trying to help you. Why do you have to make it so fucking hard?”

I have to get out of the ring. I can’t do it anymore.

I just heard Crockett scream into the air. "Kate STOP IT."

“Kate, he saw us fuckin’ on the mat!”

All I hear as I head to the locker room is, “Oh, shit, fuck, Mouse, don’t leave! I’m sorry, Crockett, I’m sorry—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from "Dangerous Animals" by the Arctic Monkeys.


	8. I’ll be your distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs a distraction after Jay Halstead is shot in the line of duty. But whether it's stumbling into your best friends' apartment after a long, long shift or visiting your best friend's place of work to start a prank war, they all know that sometimes, the worst could happen and the floor could drop out from under them at any time.

_ And the boys went down with a gun in their hand _ **  
** **December 14, 2019** **  
** **0212 Hours** **  
** **1111 W 14th Place #122, Little Italy, Chicago** **  
** **Kate**

I know they sent the rest of us home, but I can’t sleep. I don’t think I’m going to sleep tonight. Mouse curls up on the couch, watching _ Always Sunny _ reruns, and I just lean over the sink, drinking an Irish coffee. 

Hey, I deserve it at this point. 

After what happened… after Jay was kidnapped, and beat, and shot… I’m supposed to just sleep? I can’t. I can barely sleep on a good day. And this was decidedly not a good day.

There's a scuffling noise at the door, like a key in the lock, and muffled swearing. Mouse glances at me, and then down the hall. The deadbolt and the chain lock are all activated. Could be anyone: Kelley, Crockett, Will, Sylvie. Those are the choices right now.

So I head there, and I unlatch the other locks, and I open the door.

Crockett blinks up at me in surprise. 

"Hey."

“‘Kett,” I say, loudly enough for Mouse to hear. “Hey. Hey, come in,” I murmur, reaching for his bag as he shuffles inside. I start relocking everything as he wanders in.”How’s… how’s Jay?”

"Well, he's out of the second surgery, hence…" he gestures to himself awkwardly. "He's stable. We think he's gonna be fine. Needs a week or so off. I said three." He smiles at me tiredly.

I let out a heavy breath. Mouse has finally left his perch, and he crosses his arms tightly over his chest. I know what’s going through his mind, and I hate it, but it is what it is. 

“Thanks for…” I choke out, then clear my throat. “Thanks for the update. Really. Thanks for… I’m glad it was you, you know? Glad it was you.” 

Crockett smiles again. "I'm just doin' my job. That's all I can do, huh?" 

I offer him a cup of coffee when we step into the great room. I also then gesture with the Bailey’s. 

He takes the cup, shaking his head to the Bailey's. "How are you two doin'?" He asks, staring into the mug he's wrapped his hands around.

“Well, uh, been better,” Mouse murmurs. “Gettin’ kinda sick of Jay gettin’ the shit beat out of him, to be honest.”

"Fair enough." He takes a drink. "Gotta say, when I heard that a boy in blue was on the way, I wondered. I hate bein' right. Hate patchin' up our own."

“How, uh. How bad was it?” Mouse asks nonchalantly. I know what he’s fishing for. How bad is this going to be?

Crockett frowns. "Bad enough I had to go in twice. Enough damage that he would've probably almost crashed if I tried to do it all at the same time. Fix the first major thing, close him up, transfusions an' get his blood volume back up. Then go in again. Caught it all." He's glaring into his coffee now. "Hate doin' it. Shouldn't have to go in and patch up a friend of mine."

I feel guilty all of a sudden. I’m happy he wasn’t here in 2016. 

He shrugs, leaning back into the chair. 

"I knew what I signed up for," he sighs. "And so did he." He reaches up to rub his forehead. "He'll be fine." 

I'm not sure who he's trying to convince; me, Mouse, or himself.

“Are you sure?” Mouse mutters. “Seriously. He’ll be fine. Right?”

I’m not as convinced. I don’t know how but I believe him. I do. I’m trying. 

"We're doing our best," he says quietly. "I'm doing my best."

I throw my arms around his neck. “Thanks. For everything.”

He wraps his own arms around me, and he pulls me close. 

"I'm always gonna do everythin' I can, Katie Kat. You know that." His hand rubs up and down my back, and he inhales and exhales a shaky breath. "He's family."

“I know, I know,” I say. I feel him settle into me. “Hey, you wanna stay tonight?”

Another sigh. "If… if that's not a problem. Kelley's on shift tonight, and…" he trails off. He's focusing on his breaths, I can tell by the way he's trying to keep them even. "I'm exhausted to all hell."

“You’ve got a bag still in the guest room, you know,” Mouse says. 

He nods. "Yeah… yeah. Thank you," he says softly, still rubbing my back. 

I watch him nearly slam into the doorframe as he wanders into the guest room, and I glance to Mouse tiredly. 

“When have we become the house for wayward souls?”

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close. “You’ve always had a heart for the broken ones, havent you?”

“It’s in my blood, Mouse. In my blood.” I rest my head against his chest. “We’re gonna need at least three bedrooms.”

“I know. Already on the list.”

* * *

_But I still have you, so I’ll say it aloud_

**December 17, 2019  
** **1856 Hours  
** **Firehouse 51  
** **Mouse**

I mill about the outside of the firehouse for the moment. Kelley is supposed to take me around, show me the house, and if we’re lucky, they’ll let me go out with them on a call. 

Isn’t that the dream? I mean, I’m sure sometime as a kid I wanted to be a firefighter. And she’s living it. 

Right now though, I linger at the monument. I wasn’t too close to Otis, sure, but I know what it’s like to lose one of your own. And Kelley, she was almost one of them. 

I sigh. I touch the plaque. I send up a silent thanks. I don’t know what finally made her see, but I’m not one to question it. Just appreciate the outcome. 

"Mouse?"

She's come up behind me, still a few feet back. She smiles as she stands beside me. 

In what looks like a well-loved tradition, she brushes a kiss to her fingers and touches the plaque with a fond smile. 

"You're a good one, buddy," she whispers.

“So. Uh. You on still for today?” I try. Gotta bring up the energy. Oof. 

But she doesn't seem bothered. She turns the smile to me and jumps up, arms around my neck. "Hell yeah we're on for today. C'mon, Mousey." She grabs my hand, pulling me up the driveway through the door. As she yanks me into the firehouse, she turns to look at me. "How's Jay doing? How are you and Kate?"

“Jay is okay. He’s antsy as hell. You know how he can be. Me, we’re good. Uh, still lookin’ at houses. Never uh…. never thought _ that _would be in the cards for me. This is nuts. This is….” I find myself spinning the gold ring on my left hand. 

"Hey," she says, making me look at her. "This? All so so good." She hugs me gently, pulling me towards the Squad table. 

Severide gives me an easy smile, and Cruz gives me a half salute. "Hey, Gerwitz!"

Kelley creeps up behind Severide, and vaults up onto his back. "Kelly," she hisses in his ear, and he ducks forwards to toss her off his back. He's laughing, and Cruz just rolls his eyes. 

“Dammit, Goose, why you gotta do that!?” 

In a strange change of pace, she somersaults and gets back onto her feet. 

“Goose? The hell is that?” I ask. 

“She’s Goose. He’s Maverick. Don’t let it go to his head,” Cruz says. “It’s the only way they can keep each other apart. You know. Kelley. Kelly.”

I glance back to her. She points to her eyes, then back to Severide, then back to her eyes again.

“That’s a challenge,” Severide calls out. “This is a challenge.” 

She launches herself at him with a screech.

He drops low, and she rolls over his back. 

She almost sticks the landing. I start wheezing as she flat tires. 

“Be careful,” I say, “you’ve got one more shot before she declares—“

“War!” Kelley cries. 

She winks at me. "Watch your back, Maverick."

Immediately she starts running into the firehouse. “Ritter! Blakey!” She cries out. They both pop out from behind the counter in the kitchen. 

“You good?” Gallo says. 

She grins at both of them, and it's almost manic. She's on the warpath, now. 

“It’s war!” She cries in the middle of the common room. A few of them groan. Herrmann and Mouch don’t even react. I can hear Severide stomping in the hallway calling for Casey. 

Oh, shit. This is real. 

She yanks me along as Gallo and Ritter come closer, but she lets go as Gallo picks her up like a toy. She monkeys onto his back with a grin.

“We gotta get to safety,” Ritter says, watching our back. We run out past the rigs, and Kelley—using Gallo— leads us back to a side supply closet. 

“Alright,” I start. “Attack or retaliation?”

Gallo starts giggling. 

Kelley stares at me, and it's a wise look. "Attack. Always." She ruffles Gallo's hair from her vantage point on his back.

“To what level? Small, medium, or catastrophic?”

"Small. For now." She's poking Gallo's skull, and reaches out to poke Ritter too.

Ritter just casually swats her hand away like she’s a bug. I love seeing these three. Glad to be a part of it. 

I think. 

“Tell me what you know about his routine.”

She grins. "Maverick is unpredictable. We need to recruit Kidd. And fast. She's our way in."

“I’ve got Kidd,” Ritter perks up. “She likes me.”

“Everyone likes you,” Kelley says, almost snapping at him. It’s a bit jarring. She’s still complimenting him, though. “Cover your tracks. Make sure you’re not followed.”

He salutes her and disappears. Kelley inches up from where she's sliding down Gallo's back. He just adjusts her without a blink. "We have to be smart about this," he says thoughtfully.

“What would drive Severide up the wall the worst, in a short amount of time? We have to strike quick. And hit hard.” I realize I’m pacing. “We need information from Stella.”

Gallo nods. "That's what Ritter's working on." He reaches up to gently boop Kelley's nose. "Calm down, kiddo. You're acting all war-like again. You'll scare him," he says, nodding to me.

“You’re not gonna scare me. Ranger, remember? Also, reformed criminal. I’m down for anything. Let’s do this.” The promise of a prank is hanging over my head, and I’m antsy for Ritter’s return. 

"He should be back by now," Kelley whines, trying to steer Gallo like Ratatouille.

“Wait,” I say, listening outside. “You two stay here. I have a bad feeling about this.”

Gallo steps back into the corner, making sure he's between Kelley and the door. 

"Be careful, sir," he grins.

I instinctively salute him before I sneak out. 

And I see it. The squad table. Ritter sits in Severide’s chair, looking horrified. Severide leans on the table in front of him.

“What’s their plan?”

“You won’t get me to spill.”

“What’s their plan? I’m not gonna ask again!”

Cruz paces behind Ritter, trying not to break down into giggles. 

I head back into the room. “Guys, we have a man down. He’s behind enemy lines.”

Kelley bursts into tears. "Not Ritter! No, Darren, no… he had his whole life ahead of him!" 

Gallo rolls his eyes and pats her head. 

"We'll get him back, Kel, it's okay."

“Kelley, I know you can sing, you need to find a community theatre. I swear. Secondly. What do you both have on your person right now?”

Kelley gives me a weird look, but the tears stop instantly. 

"Blake," she mutters. "Left pocket is my multitool, right is a ring of hair elastics and a granola bar. Can you please grab them, I don't want to let go."

He doesn't even blink, just reaches into her pocket and presents the objects before he pulls a mess of junk out of his own pockets. 

"I don't even know what's in there," he says almost apologetically. 

I look through. There’s a multitool, good, but I don’t think they’re going to need anything else. 

“Gallo, most of that is garbage,” I mutter before pulling a lighter out of my pocket. “Kel, I know you’re a spider monkey. Gallo, I’ve heard of your… extracurriculars. You think you could get up to one of the sprinklers on the garage ceiling?”

He grins and cracks his knuckles. He thinks it looks cool, but he winces as one finger cracks painfully. 

"Yeah," he nods. "We could get up there." 

“Alright. I did this in Bagram with… with Jay once, which was based on a trick he did with Kate growing up, but that involved a cherry picker… not important. So here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m going to distract Severide, and at the same time, try to get Ritter out of dodge. Those chairs out there roll, right?”

Kelley nods. "There's brakes on them, but they roll… What do we do? Just trigger the sprinkler?"

“First, you hide. I’ll signal you. This is retaliation and an attack. I’ll distract so you both can start climbing. Get in position.”

Gallo flicks Kelley's ear, as they get ready. The young man grins at me, ready to go.

I bounce on my feet a little. “Alright, count to ten, and then go.” 

I slip out of the room, and start circumventing the rigs so they can’t tell where I was coming from. Carefully, I start strolling forward, approaching the squad table with innocence.

“Interloper!” Capp calls out. 

It doesn’t bother me. In fact, it makes the adrenaline rush through my veins. 

I book towards the chair holding Ritter. “Hold on, kid!”

Cruz jumps out of the way, and I slam into the chair holding Darren. He uses the chair to get out of the area, then starts running towards the open bay doors. Once he’s safe, I weave past Severide. Cruz tries to go after me, but Severide holds him back. I skid to a stop on the driveway outside. Sev just looks… vengeful.

“Don’t try to fight him,” he says to Cruz. “Former Ranger. He’ll kick your ass.”

I bow to the Squad table before slipping off the side of the garage doors with Ritter. 

“Thanks, Mouse!” He says gleefully. 

“What did you tell him?” I ask, my voice low.

“Nothing! We didn’t have a plan at all!”

“Did you tell him we were trying to get Stella?”

“She’s the one who ratted me out!” He says. “Didn’t get five steps before she ran for Sev!”

“Get out of sight. Find somewhere to hide. He’s only going to try again.”

“What are you going to do?” Ritter asks me. 

I smirk. “I’m gonna find Stella.”

* * *

**Kelley**

I let Blake climb up first, and I follow. Once we get to a spot where we can wait, I look down. I slap a hand over Blake's mouth as he starts giggling. "Shh, don't draw attention."

He licks my hand and I grimace, but I keep it there. 

"Kelley, look! He's free!" He reaches to point, but his balance is off enough he wobbles. 

I grab his belt and haul him back. "Flake, stop, you'll be a splat. Don't make me a work widow, please?" 

He blows me a kiss, and nods. "I promise."

I roll my eyes and watch closely. I know Mouse has a plan, but I'm antsy. 

Stella walks out of the firehouse door, looking sternly at Severide as they all seem to plan their next steps on the squad table.

“What’s up, Kelly? Mouse told me you needed me for—”

“That’s gotta be the signal,” Blake says.

I pass him the tool and hang onto his belt and collar so he doesn't fall. "Just don't Blake-cake. Do your job."

He reaches out to fiddle with the sprinkler. For a firehouse, that flame doesn’t take long to start spraying. 

And spray it does. The entirety of squad is almost immediately soaked, Stella included. 

Maverick kicks the squad table as all of them deal with the emotional damage of being wet unexpectedly.

Blake starts giggling, even as the sprinkler manages to nail him. I yank him back as he wipes his sleeve across his face. 

"Careful, come back where it's solid."

He scuttles back, grabbing on to me to steady himself. 

Cruz heads off to turn off the sprinklers. Stella looks pissed, but she’s collateral damage at this point, and they all start back into the fire station proper to change their clothes. Mouse, on the other hand, strolls out from the other side of the garage door, with Darren in tow. 

I let Blake go first, and there's one sort of hairy moment when his hand skids off the ledge. 

I reach down, knees clamping around the jut-out, and I let myself swing under. My hand grabs the back of his shirt long enough to let him find a new grip. 

His feet hit the ground, and I jump the last six feet. 

“That was awesome!” Ritter says, running forward to give me a hug. 

“Retaliation will be swift,” Mouse says, already looking around corners, waiting for it. “He’s gonna come back, and he’s gonna come hard. Wait. That sounded dirty. Listen. We’ve gotta—”

And the tones drop. 

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Engine 51, Ambulance 61. Report of multiple gunshot victims, possible electrical fire. Sound Bar nightclub, 226 W Ontario St. Stage at scene until cleared.”

I toss Blake a spare shirt from my seat in the back of Engine. Actually, it's Ritter's, but whatever. He won't notice. The goof keeps three shirts at a time in there. 

At least they're clean. 

Mouse steps out of the way. I nearly forgot he was here as soon as tones dropped. But as soon as he clears, I see Boden’s SUV stop in front of him. Mouse looks gleeful for a moment as he runs to get in on the other side.

Oh, Lord. Even Boden is on our side. That could come in handy later—

Herrmann practically jumps into his gear, swinging into his seat. I follow, jumping into my seat behind him. Ritter's beside me, and we pull out tight behind the Boden-buggy. 

"I hate calls that we gotta stage," Herrmann yells over the sirens. "Usually they end up with one of us beat up."

"Don't be a Debby Downer, Lieutenant," Ritter yells back, and I just see Herrmann turn to glare at him. 

We get into position, the rigs lined up down the street. If I look close, I can see what looks like Voight's SUV. 

That's not good, if Intelligence is on the scene. 

And then Voight returns gunfire.

“Holy shit,” Herrmann mutters. “Been a while since I saw that.”

Voight’s voice comes across the radio. _ “Scene is clear. Gonna need that bus, who's the ambo crew today.” _

It's not a question. It's his nod to us.

Herrmann jumps out, and Engine escorts Brett and Foster to Voight's location. 

I flank Foster, Ritter on her other side. Voight hasn’t even holstered his weapon before he starts giving us instructions in that gruff voice of his.

“Drug activity for sure. Three down inside, electrical fire started back by the deejay booth. One at large, but we cleared the scene, so we’ve got a BOLO out on him.”

Casey, Sev, Boden and Herrmann confer, and I'm just ready to go. Halligan in my hand, bouncing to go. 

Truck breaches, and Squad's behind. 

Boden scans the outside. 

"Marcks, Gallo, you need to get ready to vent so Truck can breach the main room."

There's no way for anyone to pull the ladder truck close enough, and he knows it. 

"Chief, we can get up the fire escape halfway, then shimmy over to the drainpipe," Blake says, and he has the look of his signature "I have a badass plan, and there's emphasis on the bad" on his face. 

Boden thinks it over, and agrees with a nod. 

I strap my Halligan to my frame, and Blake gives me a boost up. We climb, and I can feel heat from here. I keep heading up, and when I look down, I see Blake following close by. 

And I see Mouse, standing by the Boden-buggy, with his phone out. 

Oh, Lord, Kate’s gonna kill me.

I focus back on my task. I need to jump and get to the drainpipe. Blake gives me a thumbs up and then laces his hands together. 

He's gonna launch me.

I place a boot on his hands, and on the silent count of three, he launches me enough for me to grab the pipe. I roll, shoulder striking the roof as I land. 

He follows, and I radio down. 

"Chief, we're in position."

_ “Start venting. Now.” _

I jam my Halligan into the roof panel, Blake doing the same. He nods, and we start pulling, ripping the panel off the roof. I jump back as flames shoot out, but he doesn't, not in time. There's flames up the side of his turnout, and with the vent open, I shove him to the flat roof and start trying to pat him down. 

"Chief, Gallo's in flames! Trying to get it out. Vent's open, sir." He doesn’t panic, but between the two of us, we get it out. 

And then the roof starts creaking.

"Chief, roof's starting to bitch at us," Gallo calls over his radio, and he pushes me gently towards where we came.

_ “We’ve got a potential backdraft forming down here, can we get a little more ventilation up top?” _ Severide’s voice comes across.

And we’re looking at a potential roof collapse. They’re facing a backdraft.

This is one of those no-win scenarios.

"Blake, go. Get out of here," I mutter, heading slowly over to another decent vent spot. I'm ready with my Halligan.

Gallo runs off. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I hear his voice on the radio—

“_ Chief, how close can you get that ladder to the building?” _

I grit my teeth. "Squad, opening the vent now. Let me know if you need more."

I start ripping away with my Halligan, trying to ignore the way the roof groans under me.

_ “Voight has called off the CPD, we’re close as we’re gonna get. Extending it now.” _

“I don’t think we’re gonna have that kind of time,” Gallo says, calling out to me. I see him on the other side of the building. I know we’re four floors up, but he’s still unwinding a loop of hose that comes out of the box marked “for fire fighting personnel only”. 

“Hey, Kel! You ever seen _ Die Hard? _”

I'm still trying to get the vent open enough. "Not enough to know what you're doing. Get the hell out of here, Gallo!" I can't open the damn vent any further, the flames are too hot. 

"Severide, how's that possible backdraft looking?"

_ “Good, now get the hell outta there!” _

“Workin’ on it!” Gallo cries, and he winds the hose around my waist, tying it as tightly as he can. I see he’s already got his own. “You run, and you jump, okay? Hold the hell on, Marcks,” he says, almost gleefully. “That ladder ain’t gonna get to us in time before this roof—”

He looks over his shoulder. The other side is already starting to collapse.

I know it, I feel the mist in my mind but I don't have time for that. I start bolting for the edge. I get to the edge and I jump.

There's one long, horrible second while I'm suspended in air, and then I'm plunging downward. 

And then, as I grasp for the rope—my only lifeline at this point—the breath is nearly knocked out of me when I’m wrenched to a stop. 

And all I hear is silence. I’m afraid for a second this one took.

But then—cackling laughter. Hysterical laughter, horrible laughter, the sound of Blake Gallo losing his mind five feet from me. 

“That… was… awesome!”

I stare up at him. 

"Blake, tell me you have a plan to get us down!" 

I can see the ladder, but I already can tell it's going to be just out of reach. It settles between the two of us, just far enough away to be out of reach and close enough to dream about.

The fear itches at my throat. The mist comes for my mind. 

And then a voice. 

“What in _ holy hell _ were you thinkin’?” Herrmann calls out, climbing to the end of the ladder. With his hand extended, we could almost touch, but it’s going to be an insane save. 

But it’s Herrmann. I smile.

"Listen," I say weakly. "Gallo and I share about three brain cells, but he doesn't use them." I take a breath, and the hose is beginning to constrict around me. "I could use a hand, but get Gallo first. My weight is dragging him down."

Herrmann eyes me, and I know what he’s thinking. He’s scared. I don’t have the breath in me right now to tell him I’m fine. Instead, Gallo starts to waver, his line shifting. 

“You’re gonna have to swing, you dumbass,” Herrmann says. Gallo already starts using the wall to get some leverage, untying the hose as he does. He’s clinging now to barely a thread. 

And then he swings, and he jumps, and in a fluid motion and Herrmann’s hand, he swings Gallo to the ladder below him. It shakes, just for a second, and then steadies.

“See?” Gallo calls out. “Easy!”

“_ We’re going to have another discussion when you get down, Gallo,” _Boden says sharply. 

“Oops!” Gallo says. 

I shoot him a smile, but then I look to Herrmann as the knot slips again. Now it really is digging into me, and I don't have enough leverage to pull up. I meet Herrmann's eyes.

“You trust me, kid?” He says, and Gallo moves to stabilize Herrmann.

"Always," I say, my lack of air cutting me off. 

Herrmann takes another step up on the ladder. He can barely reach my hand, but I grasp for it, getting the best grip I can. 

“Let it go, Kelley,” he says, his voice wavering. He knows too much. “I got you.”

I force myself to keep my eyes on him. He's not going to let me fall, and slowly I let go of the hose.

And Herrmann grabs me. And then he’s got both of my hands, all of me, all my gear. 

I can hear the roof collapse. We should have been on that roof. 

But with a groan, and with Gallo’s stabilizing hands, I find myself on the ladder, and there’s clapping from below.

I take a second, and I'm jelly as I gasp in air. 

“See?” Herrmann says. He’s smiling, but I can tell the horror slipping like adrenaline through his blood stream. God. That’s what this would have done to him, isn’t it? But he’s… he’s smiling. And he laughs. “Told ya I had ya.”

I nod, still sucking in air like it was going out of style. "Let's. .. let's go." I suddenly feel sick, and I don't look down. I keep my eyes on him until we get to the end of the ladder. My heart doesn’t really stop racing until I can get down and on solid ground. 

And then, I’m nearly knocked over. I’m being hugged so quickly, so hard, without regard to the ash and soot and dust all over me. 

It’s Mouse, and I think he’s crying.

I can't help it. My knees, already shaky, give out. 

I'm suddenly freezing cold and sweating at the same time, and I'm alive.

"Mouse…" I whisper. 

“Tell me that wasn’t your idea,” he’s whispering. “Tell me it wasn’t yours.”

I shake my head, and my head hurts. My chest is sore where the hose dug into my ribs. 

"No… no, it wasn't," I gasp. He’s not helping the soreness, pulling me close. Once he’s finished, he holds me at arms’ length.

“We need to agree right now, Kate does not need to know about this, alright?” 

I nod, looking around. "Where's… where's Blake? Is he okay?"

“Don’t you _ ever _ do something that reckless again!” I hear Boden yell and instinctively cringe. I didn't know he could get that loud. “You _ and _ Marcks could have died or been seriously wounded!”

Well, while Gallo gets his reaming, I see Severide strolling up smiling almost forcibly to Mouse. Mouse nods and steps back to talk to Voight.

I smile at Sev. "Hey, Maverick."

“That was insane. It was stupid. I think we’ve both had enough excitement for today, so I wanted to call a truce.”

He holds out his hand for a handshake.

I take his hand with a smile. 

"Yeah, a truce sounds good. Sorry for the sprinkler."

“Sorry for taking a prisoner of war,” he says shrugging. 

"You are not," I accuse, chuckling.

“Maybe a little,” he says, but instead, he drops my hand and pulls me into a hug. I barely hit his chest. 

I breathe into the hug. After a moment, I feel the adrenaline headache push back on the scene, and I pull away.

"Over-" I clear my throat. "Overhaul will be fun."

“We better go get started then,” he says. “I gotta say one thing though, Kelley.”

“Yeah, Kelly?”

“You make shit around here way more fun.”

I scoff, flipping him off lovingly as I go to try and find Blake. I can _ hear _Boden still.

“You will clean each of these rigs from top to bottom before you go home tonight, is that clear?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Blake says in the quietest of voices. 

“Get to overhaul.”

Boden storms off, past me, not even looking at me. I let out my pent up breath as Blake peers at me wide-eyed.

I shrug, and I can hear my own voice like I'm in a tunnel. 

"He cares. We sort of… sort of scared him…" I step forward, and I grab his shoulder. "You did good. That saved both our asses. You want a hand cleaning the rigs?" 

I'm trying to smile at him. I'm trying, I swear. But he sees it. And he pulls me into a hug. This one is desperation, is fear, is anxiety, is a little bit of brotherly love.

“Any day I get to spend with you is a good one, you know that, right?” He says, letting the tear run down his face. He doesn’t make a move to even wipe it away. “You know I would love your help, but you don’t have to. But I would love it.”

I can't even talk, I'm just clinging to him. 

Somehow he always knows what to say. 

He knows. I've got his back, he's got mine. It's how family works. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter and section titles are from "Distraction" by Angels and Airwaves.


	9. I Don't Quite Know How to Say How I Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While plotting for their Christmas celebrations, Kate and Kelley witness the explosion—and implosion—Crockett had been leading towards for a while now. But after they get to the root of the problem, and move on to Christmas, they start to realize they really don't need words to describe what they all mean to each other.

_ I Need Your Grace To Remind Me (To Find My Own) _ **  
** **December 21, 2019** **  
** **1812 Hours  
****210 S Desplaines St, Chicago, IL  
****Kate**

I drain my glass of wine as Kelley just consults my list. 

“Hey, why don’t you have Mouse on your shopping list?” She asks.

“We aren’t doing gifts for each other this year,” I say. 

She tilts her head at me, asking the question without asking it. 

“We are… saving it. Hopefully by spring we’ll be moving into a house.” I say, wishing for more wine. I glance around, but I know the bottle is almost finished, and I wanted to save some for Crockett.

Kelley starts the squealing again.

"Kate! Yes!" She's dancing in her spot, and wiggles two thumbs up at me.

“It’s hard,” I groan. “We’re not agreeing on certain things, and it’s just… ugh. With my doctorate, and classes, and ROTC, and looking for a house, I don’t know if I could pile anything else on. Oh! And the next tournament starting! I just… I don’t know, Kelley. I don’t know.”

She hugs me quickly.

"You got this. You got _ married _. This is a joint effort, honey buns!" She giggles.

“Oh, screw it, I’m finishing this wine. Crockett will end up getting coffee or bourbon anyways,” I say, drinking it straight from the bottle. 

Kelley snorts. "Yeah, coffee. He's been going dry for a few months again." 

“You drink approximately twenty-seven cups a day. That’s like… putting an alcoholic in a bar. How’s he doing?”

Her face clouds. 

"This is his third double this week. He's upped his hours, and he comes home tired as hell."

“I thought they cut his hours a while back after his little pneumonia scare.”

"They did," she shrugs. "But then he started proving that he was getting better and Lanik took off the restrictions."

“You’ve got a good relationship with that guy, right? Lanik? You need to talk to him. Maybe put one or two back on. ‘Kett’s gonna run himself into the ground.”

"I can only talk to him. Ultimately it's Lanik's choice."

I sip more from the bottle. “Worth a shot. He scares me, you know? I’m afraid something’s going to happen and… we’re gonna have to rescue him.”

There's keys in the door, and muffled swearing as whoever's is one the other side of the door is having trouble. 

The door swings open, and Crockett stares at the two of us. 

I forcibly grin at him. “I was going to leave you some wine, but I started drinking from the bottle.”

He glances at us, the furrow in his brow only deepening. I don't think he even heard me. 

He stalks past us, not even bothering to take off his jacket. 

And then his door slams.

I turn to Kelley with wide eyes. “What the fuck was that?!”

She's staring at his door, and she's confused. 

"I don't know. That was… that was weird."

“Should we check on him? I feel like we should. I don’t want to invade, though, you know? We should probably check, right?”

Kelley stands up, and she knocks lightly on his door. 

"'Kett?" She asks softly.

"Fuck off," I hear, muffled from the other side of the door, and Kelley returns to her seat. She's pale. 

"That's new," she whispers. I squint, just tipsy enough to start towards the door. I knock on it, nearly slam my fist against it, exactly once.

“Crockett, it’s Kate.”

"Fuck off," he says again, and there's anger in his voice.

“Hey. Hey, neither of us deserve that. And you know it. Now, I ain’t gonna break down your door, because that’s an invasion of privacy, but I’m gonna sit in the doorway until you open this door.”

And I slide down, blocking the doorway with my body. Oh, look, I brought the wine with me. Great.

"I'm not in the mood for shit like this, Gerwitz," he mutters, and he wrenches the door open. I’m almost knocked around, but I jump to my feet. 

“Alright, let’s confront this head on,” I say, drinking from the bottle again. “What happened at work?” I say bluntly. 

He glares at me, and pushes straight past me out into the main space. "Get outta my face, woman," he says, and slams a cupboard door.

“What the fuck did you call me?” I scoff, pushing the wine bottle into Kelley’s chest. “You wanna say that to my face? You wanna call me ‘woman’ again?” 

He turns his back to me, and starts the coffee maker. "Not doin' this, Gerwitz."

“You started it, now I’m finishing it,” I say, realizing I’m squaring up behind him. “This ain’t the way to greet family where I’m from, and I’m fairly certain it’s not the way you were taught to talk to a woman, am I right?”

He slams his hands onto the counter, and he just stays there for a moment. 

"Just shut the fuck up, Kaitlyn."

“No,” I say. “You should know full well I ain’t gonna shut up. Not until we get to the bottom of this abhorrent behavior.”

"Then at least get the hell outta my face." His voice is low, but there's frustration in it.

“Crockett,” I say low. Quiet. “Crockett. We’ve talked about this shit. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

"For the love of all that's holy, Kate, maybe I don't want help!" He says, whirling around to meet my eyes, and he's angry. 

“You should know. None of us _ want _help. But we all need it. So either hit me—you know I’ll just kick your ass—or tell me what’s wrong, so we can get past it, okay?”

He reaches out and slams a hand into the wall. "Why the _ hell _is no one even listening to me today?" he asks desperately, angrily.

I stand in front of him, mouth shut, arms crossed, just waiting. Waiting for him to say something. I peer at him expectantly.

"I don't ask for much," he mutters. "But no, fine. Don't fuckin’ listen to me. All doin' the same thing." He leans his forehead on the wall and lets his eyes close. 

“I’m listening to you right now,” I say. “All I hear is anger. I haven’t heard anything substantial except the fact that this really isn’t about me not listening to you, it’s about someone at work not listening to you, am I right?”

He reaches up to rub his forehead, and he sighs. "Just sick of bein' undermined. I don't ask for a lot, just don't fuckin' imply I don't know shit. Been an ED doc for years, I've seen a few damn things." He brushes past me to the kitchen island chair. He lets his head fall into his hands.

“What happened?” I say, leaning on the counter next to him. I glance to the wide eyed Kelley, who just pulls herself back up onto the counter. “Who was talkin’ shit?”

He shrugs, and his face falls a bit. 

"Just tryin' to do my damn job," he mutters, and he leans his head on his hand.

“I’ve noticed in my many years of experience in both the Army and now as college faculty, the ones who are wrong are usually the loudest,” I say. 

"Can't do it," he mutters. "Sick of it. Sick of bein' given hell for the job I'm supposed to do." He's rubbing circles on his temples, and he's just getting agitated. "Tired of having to apparently answer for every damn move I make to someone who I shouldn't have to explain to. Who's supposed to do her own job, not hound me on mine."

“I know, man. I know. Hey, gonna touch you,” I murmur, giving him a brief warning before my hands meet his shoulders. I try to gently work out some of the tension. “Listen. I know this is a radical idea for you, but maybe you should take a few days off. It’s not gonna fix everything. Trust me. I know that. But I feel like you need to let yourself take a breath. Especially since it’s Christmas time.”

He winces as a knot in his shoulder makes itself known. 

"Kate, I can't afford to take time off," he says quietly. "Can't afford to lose the little ground, the little credibility I have there. The moment I leave, it's gone again."

“And running yourself into the ground isn’t going to help your cause, either,” I say, working on the knot. I glance to Kelley for any help she could give. 

"'Kett, you're only hurting yourself more," she whispers. "You haven't been sleeping, I know that. You haven't slept right since before the outbreak, two months ago. You don't eat at home unless you're trying to get me to eat." Her mouth shuts, and she watches him.

"The more I work, the more I can prove the fact I can do the job I'm here to do," he says quietly, squinting his eyes shut. 

“Who are you trying to prove it to?” I say. “Them, or yourself? We all have shit we’re running from. Why do I feel like yours is chasing you down?”

He's shaking his head. "Kate, what's this, an interrogation?" 

“I’m trying to have a conversation, but you’re makin’ me drag it outta you.”

The cloud falls over his face again. "I never asked you to bother," he mutters sullenly, his eyes closed.

“Hey,” I say, leaning over his shoulder, “remember what I told you? Take it to the other side. I got all the time in the world for you, brother.”

His breath hitches. "Just tryin' to run, to do my work like I want to do. So much red tape. It's not black and white, it's fuckin' gray. Figured I'd left that behind. No, it's everywhere." He's left with a shaky hand that he uses to try and rub the tension from his forehead.

“You’ll never really leave it,” I admit. “No one sees shit the same way. But the most you can do is breathe through it, understand when you’re right and when you’re wrong, and do your best to help the people you can along the way.”

"So tired," he murmurs. "So tired of the same thing. Lanik won't even let me work over 80 hours a week. Said someone came to him concerned about my 'wellbeing.'" 

“Maybe that person was right,” I say. “Listen. You’re no good to anyone when you’re tired, you’re angry, you’re hungry. You’re uncaffeinated,” I chuckle. “You need some of those hours back to take care of yourself. If you’re not taking care of yourself, how can you take care of your patients?”

He shoves the chair back, and starts to walk to the window. 

He stops halfway there, and I'm not sure why. 

Kelley, silent and scared, perched on the counter watching him.

"Then what does it say about me if I lost a patient?" He asks quietly, his voice still.

He stands there in the middle of the room, and he's swaying. "I lost someone not on the table, even, in the ED. And I'm tryin' not to lose me."

“Crockett, there’s times….. sometimes you can’t save them all. Trust me. I…. I know about that. There’s always going to be people you lose. You can’t lose yourself too.”

He doesn't turn around, just seems to stare into space. "I… just tryin'...."

“And that’s all you can do,” I say, going to him but giving him a wide enough berth that he can see me coming. I know not to come up behind him. I know what I would do if it happened to me. “‘Kett, you… you’re fighting a battle you can’t win. You’ll crash and burn before you do. You’re… you’re going so hard, so fast, all the time, with the expectation your body will keep up. You’re human. You need to take care of yourself, too.”

His eyes are unfocused as he turns to look at me. "I can do it…" he insists.

“I’ll help,” I say softly. “I’ve been there. I’ll help, but only if you want me to.”

He blinks and nods slowly. "I don't know what to do," he admits quietly, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I'm just tired of this shit."

“Why don’t you meet me halfway? Next week, reduce your hours. If I can’t get you to take vacation, at least take it easy a little. It’ll help. Trust me.”

"If they ask me to work a double, Kate, or an extra shift, I'm not gonna turn it down. I don't work like that."

“But don’t offer it, okay? I want you home for Christmas.”

He smiles a bit, and it's an exhausted smile. "I can do that, at least." He reaches up to rub his face again.

“See? No need to get angry. No need to lash out. Trust me,” I say again, my voice going low and my eyes growing wide. “Trust me. I know about anger. It’ll eat you alive. And it’s usually just a reaction to something else.”

He looks past me to Kelley and beckons her closer. He wraps his arms around both of us. "I'm sorry for takin' it out on you two. You don't deserve that," he says softly.

“We can take it. Besides, we knew it wasn’t about us,” I say. “There’s always something else goin’ on in that head of yours.”

He pulls away a bit. "But you two don't deserve any of that."

“Deserve? Fuck that, we _ chose _ to be here. Don’t push us away when we made that decision. Family is family, Crockett, whether you think you deserve it or not.”

He nods, half collapsing onto the couch. "Thanks, kid." He lets his eyes close, and I sigh.

I vault over the couch to sit down next to him. “I’ll tell you until you finally get it through your skull: I’m here for you, Crockett. Even if you don’t think I should be.”

Kelley sits down on his other side and shoots me a hesitant look. 

"Crockett listen," she starts. "Something's gotta switch up, here. You're still not sleeping. I can tell, because you're up when I go to bed and you're still up when I get up. Usually in the same clothes." She runs a hand through his hair and he sighs. "We need to get a handle on this. Maybe talk to Dr. Charles?" 

He gives her a frustrated look. "Yeah, nah that's not happenin', Kelley. Nice, but nah."

“How about this,” I say, shifting to face him. “Kelley… Kelley helps you with the day to day. If she reminds you to sleep, you sleep. If you haven’t eaten, and she reminds you, you eat. And you and I? We take the rest. Let’s just… let’s catch breakfast every week. We can go to Lou Mitchell’s like we did....” I drift, not wanting to bring it up. “I think you just need someone to talk to, don’t you, ‘Kett?”

He scoffs. "I feel oddly like I have a babysitter, or an around the clock watch." 

Kelley huffs and launches herself onto his lap, pulling him to look at her.

"Yes. Yes, you do," she says lowly. "If that's what it's gonna take. Crockett, you have been spiraling for months. And you fucking ignored it to try and help me. And ultimately, it was a rough road." 

He has no choice but to meet her eyes, and I can see the near panic on his face.

"You put everything aside to try and help me. Between all of you, I'm here now. Please, _ please _ , let all of us be here for you. You told me you're not about to stand around and watch me destroy myself? Well guess what, Marcel, it's coming back for you. _ I'm _coming back for you, because there's no chance in hell I'm gonna let you run yourself into your own damn grave!" 

I’m almost surprised by the outburst. There’s not much more I can say.

“She’s right and should say it,” I murmur, leaning back on the couch.

He's shocked, and I'm not sure he even has words, judging by the way he's staring at her. 

She scrambles off his lap as his breath comes quicker, and she looks to me. 

He's unwinding, but he might just unravel in the process. I know it’s gonna take all of us to keep him together. 

I lean forward and pull him into a hug. 

Kelley rubbing his back and she's looking at me. 

"He's pretty close to hyperventilating," she whispers, barely audible. Her hand just keeps rubbing circles on his back. 

“Hey. We’re here. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. You’re gonna be fine. We got you,” I whisper. 

He goes limp in my arms, and Kelley freezes, concerned. 

And then he starts crying. And Kelley lunges forward to hug him from the side, and he's between us. 

I shift so I can get closer to him, letting him snuggle both into me and Kelley. And I fully intend on staying there as long as he needs me to stay. I just hope he starts to learn that.

_________

_ Forget what we’re told, before we get too old _

**December 25, 2019** **  
** **1623 Hours** **  
** **1111 W 14th Place #122, Little Italy, Chicago** **  
** **Mouse**

“Kate, can you please stop fussing, and come sit down so we can do gifts?!”

She cannot stop messing with the oven. She had already prepared the lasagna and manicotti beforehand, but the more she pokes into it, the more time she wastes.

“I have to make sure the timing is fine--”

“The timing is fine!” I call out, rolling my eyes in the direction of both Crockett and Kelley.

I’m surprised, actually, that he made it. With everything that went down last weekend, I’m thankful that maybe Kelley and Kate got through to him. 

On this one, at least. 

Regardless, Kate finally returns, her face flushed from the heat of the oven.

“You gonna chill now?” I ask, and she flips me off. 

"Yeah, Kate," Crockett says, hiding a laugh. "Chill."

“Hey! That’s not fair!” She says over her wine glass. “You have absolutely zero chill!”

He shrugs. "I call it like I see it. You have none. You took all the chill I don't have, and now you're in the hole in regards to amount of sheer chill." He just smiles, as if what he said actually made sense.

“You either need more bourbon or less bourbon,” Kate mutters, slamming herself down on the other side of the couch. She looks to Kelley, who is staring intently at the small pile of gifts on the coffee table, like a… well, a kid at Christmas. 

“You gonna make it, Marcks?” She snarks. 

Kelley looks at Kate, and just sticks her tongue out. 

Yeah. Emphasis on the "kid" part. 

"I'm a child, okay?" She mutters. 

“Alright, alright,” I say, finding the box for Kelley. “Before you have a conniption.”

I hand it over to the child in the room.

She holds it, stares at it like she's trying to figure it out, then just _ shreds _it, giggling like a hyena.

The box has a stylized devil on it, and when she rips open the cardboard, I hear her gasp. I know what’s inside: it’s the Devil Mountain Coffee Company’s Black label coffee—the most caffeinated coffee in the world. 

“Actually, for the next six months, you’ll get a bag in the mail,” I say. “I hope you like it.”

“I did not agree to this plan,” Kate says directly to Crockett. “I apologize. Deeply. For my husband’s transgressions against you.”

Crockett looks amused. "Fine by me. If it actually wakes her up in the morning, I'm fine with it. She's usually a zombie. This might help. Might have to set a coffee curfew, but whatever," he shrugs.

Kate just widens her eyes looking at the two of us. But Kelley’s reaction is the best.

She starts wiggling. She looks at me and starts bouncing. In a moment she flings herself over to me, arms wrapping around my neck. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She plants a kiss on my cheek and shoves the bag in my face. "This is what you get to drink when you come over now. Think of the pranks we could think up!"

“Pranks?” Kate says. I ignore it. I drink my own beer, pretending like I didn’t just hear my wife. Shh. It’s fine. Just hide from it. “You’re gonna tell me sooner or later,” she mutters.

Oops.

“Crockett!” Kate says, shifting her energy into something more… positive and less of an attack on Kelley and I’s extracurriculars. She tosses him a small package. 

He catches it clumsily, and he tries to unwrap it with his one good hand. 

"What is it?" He chuckles as he fiddles with it.

“Open it, that’s kind of the point,” Kate says. She’s gotten a little more serious. I admittedly didn’t know what she got Crockett, but that’s fine. I don’t have to know. 

He finally gets it open, and he blinks, pulling the chain out with wide eyes. 

"Kate…" he whispers, staring at it. "St. Luke."

“Uh, yeah,” she says quietly. “Patron saint of doctors, and surgeons. And bachelors,” she jokes. I see her absentmindedly playing with the warrior cross around her own neck.

Crockett nods, reaching up to fasten it around his neck. He fumbles with it, his one hand and wrist seemingly not cooperating.

“Hang on, ‘Kett,” she murmurs, handing me her wine glass. She stands and takes the necklace from his hands—one still wrapped. Kate didn’t tell me much. Something about hitting a wall. But something tells me she and Kelley took care of it—and she leans forward enough to latch it around his neck, adjusting the clasp so it hangs just so.

That’s my wife.

He smiles sweetly at her, and he pulls her down just far enough to kiss her cheek. 

"Thank you, cher. Means the world to me," he says softly. She just takes his cheek in her hand, lets her hand rest on his shoulder before she comes back to sit with me. 

Kelley grins, lobbing a small box at me. "Think fast, Rat!"

“No. Not happening. That is not my nickname,” I grumble, carefully ripping open the tape on the box. 

Kelley snickers as the lighter falls into my hand. There's a leather cover on it, embossed with the Cubs logo. 

“Aww, yes!” I start beaming. “Hell, yes! Wait, we gotta get into some more shit, okay? I’ve got some ideas.” I say, tapping my head. 

“Ideas for what?” Kate immediately jumps onto it. “Are you getting into trouble?”

“Are you really that concerned?”

“No!” She whines. “I wanna be involved!”

Crockett laughs. "I feel like a dad, and I have three prank-obsessed kids." He schools his face into a stern look, and he settles a glare on me. "You're the oldest, Greg. You should know better."

“He should know better?” Kate scoffs. “He’s the instigator! He’s hacked--”

“--unsubstantiated,” I immediately cut her off.

“--what about the felony--”

“Part of an undercover operation,” I add.

“Oh, c’mon, Voight backdated paperwork for that, and we both know it! _ Criminal _,” she hisses. 

I throw one of our couch pillows into her chest. It lands with an “oof”.

Crockett looks back at me, and his glare intensifies. "You," he stabs a finger in my direction. "You're a role model for these two. Don't do things that will mess their lives up."

Kate just cracks up, nearly spitting out her wine. 

Crockett huffs, and he drops his gaze to his lap. 

"I'm not angry, Gregory. I'm just disappointed." He gives me a final, mournful look.

“That puppy look may work on the girls, but it ain’t gonna work on me, Marcel,” I say, gesturing with the neck of my beer bottle. “I feel zero remorse for what I’ve done.”

“It’s what got us here,” Kate says, slightly sappily, and just leans forward and gives me a kiss. 

Crockett shrugs, a smile creeping over his face. "Well, a'right then. I guess I can allow that," he says with a wink.

Immediately, I start flipping the lighter on and off, already distracted. Oh, do I have ideas. Kate reaches towards me and shuts the top. 

“Buzzkill.”

“Felon.”

“Killjoy--”

"A'right kiddos, enough! I've had enough'a your squabblin'," Crockett says, plopping himself down between us. 

He reaches to me and flicks my forehead.

I grumble, shifting over just enough so he has room, but I choose not to retaliate. It is Christmas, after all. 

"So if you haven't noticed," he starts explaining. "Kelley took care of Rat's gift, and I'm doing Kate's."

“This is _ not _ becoming a thing,” I say, pointing at the two of them. “That was a loving nickname my grandmother gave me. Do not fuck it up.”

Crockett thinks for a second then nods. "Got it. I have a better one anyway," he says slyly.

“Goddammit, Marcel, I will kick your ass if I have to,” I grumble.

He shrugs airily, winking at Kate before he yanks my collar so my head is closer to him. "Love you too," he plants a kiss on my forehead and then whispers, "Hamster man."

He pulls back with a triumphant grin.

“I literally hate you.”

"Hmm, no. No, you don't." 

He turns to Kate. 

"A'right then, darlin'," he says, placing the smallish box in her hands, covering them with his own. He looks her in the eyes. "There's a story here."

She squints at him, pulling at the tape first, and then ripping off the paper. 

He pulls her chin up to look her in the eye once more. "Just know that you're so loved, Katie Kat." And he sits back to watch her open the box. She gasps a little, pulling out first a set of tan and blue glass earrings, and then a necklace with two pendants. The longer one matches the earrings, and then there's a sea green one above it.

“Crockett…. Wow,” she says, running her fingers over them. “They’re… they’re gorgeous. Where the hell did you even… how… what…”

Kelley comes to sit on the end of the couch beside me as Crockett begins to explain. 

"You trusted me to tell me about your tours. About your time overseas," he starts, a little nervous. "And it got me thinking. You saw a lot over there, and you saw a lot here too."

As he speaks, he gently reaches to clasp the necklace around Kate's neck.

"I haven't done work like this for a long time, but Kelley found the things I needed. These are made of resin and sand," he says, holding up one of the earrings and the lower pendant. "The earrings have sand from… from the beach on 31st." He smiles awkwardly. "The sand in the necklace is from… well, I couldn't buy sand from Afghanistan, but I was able to get ahold of some from Iran. If… if that's a'right. I figured, yeah, you were in the Sandbox over there and here, in a way, and it shaped you. Shaped who you are." 

He smiles at her, and waits. Even I have to wipe the tears from my eyes. 

I don’t think she knows how to react. She’s almost dumbfounded, looking from the pendants, the earrings, back to Crockett, then to Kelley, and then back. Tears roll from her eyes.

“Damn. Damn, you two. You’re just… you’re bringin’ the heat, aren’t you?” She tries, her voice cracking. “Shit, I don’t know what I did to deserve such a…. A thoughtful gift, you know? Damn. Damn, you two.”

"Oh yeah!" Crockett mutters, then holds up the sea foam green pendant. "This." He taps it gently and turns it so she can see the smoothed edges. "Sea glass. Picked it up with a bunch from Cypremort Beach on the Cajun Riviera the day before I got in the car and drove up to Chicago." He smiles at her and kisses the top of her head once more. 

Kate just looks at the two of them in turn again, and without a second thought, she pulls them both into a hug. 

“I love you guys. I love you both more than you know. More than you will ever realize.”

Crockett grins, and Kelley is just petting Kate's hair. 

Crockett slowly extricates himself from the hug, leaving Kelley and Kate, and leans into me. Hell, he slips off my shoulder and lands halfway across my lap. "This is my home now," he says quietly, chuckling.

“So, what else is new?” I say, patting his head. “We all have this weird sense of codependency.”

“You mean dependency,” Kate and Kelley say at the same time.

Both Crockett and I shrug. 

"Whatever the hell it's called, I like it," Crockett hums, his good hand running over the St. Luke medal. 

Our tender moment is cut off when there’s a pounding at the door. When I get up to check, Casey, Sylvie, Foster and Cruz nearly fall inside. Cruz is holding a twenty-four pack of beer, while Sylvie has a crockpot.

“We brought friends!” She says, grinning widely. Casey wields a bottle of wine. 

“Oh, we ran into WIll downstairs, he’s bringing up at least four dozen breadsticks,” Foster says. 

“Breadsticks?!” Kate says, perking up and showing Sylvie where to plug in the crockpot.

I don’t know where we’re going to find space in this apartment, but Will just steps inside the open door with a massive bowl before he hands it to me.

“Kate said salad, so I brought salad.”

“Kate?” I call back, “How many people did you invite?”

“Uh… enough?” She responds.

Crockett is up behind me.

"Anything I can help with?" He asks the crowd at large.

“Uh,” Kate says, wiping tears and suddenly overwhelmed. “Furniture-- couch and coffee table-- to the extra bedroom, tables and chairs are in there. Just set them up, and pray we have enough.”

Now must be the time she told them to be here, because Trudy and Mouch appear. 

Crockett moves off to try and haul chairs. 

Mouch pushes a bag into my arms, and when I look there’s at least four bottles of wine. 

“We were cleaning,” Trudy admits. I give her a salute. 

“Has the deluge ended?” Kate calls, her face red from the oven again. I shouldn’t make fun of her for making so much food now. 

"Like hell it's ended, Gerwitz," comes Voight's gruff voice from behind us. He stands in the doorway, an amused smile on his face. There's a large bag in his hands. 

“Oh, didn’t know you were comin’, Hank!” I say, eyeing the bag carefully. I don’t know what to expect from him, still. 

He looks sheepish as he sets the bag on the counter, pulling out one of those drink dispenser things. "Fuckin' eggnog," he grumbles good-naturedly. "Habit. Justin was on my ass every year until I made it." He schools his face into a semi-serious expression, but there's pure glee in his eyes as he pulls out a Tupperware container and hands it to me. 

"Snickerdoodles," he says innocently.

“Did you bake these?” I ask tentatively.

He looks guilty, scratching the back of his neck. "Done it every year since I was married. This year…" he looks at the people around us. "Actually have people I can make them for. Figured I could triple the recipe instead of halvin' it like I normally do."

I clasp my hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. But you know no one but Kate is going to believe me if I tell them that.”

He smiles, and then rests his elbows on the counter, watching the pandemonium. 

There's a particularly nasty-sounding French swear coming from the hallway. "Hey, Hamster man, get your ass in here!"

I sigh. 

“I will not answer to anything that isn’t my NAME!” I cry back. Even Hank chuckles once.

“Glad you’re here, Hank,” I say.

"Mouse!" Crockett yells. "Need a hand, I've only got one!"

“Duty calls,” I mutter. “Kate, man the door!”

“Yes, sir!” She calls back. I head back in to Crockett. 

He looks like a trapped animal. He gives me an unimpressed look as he wedges a stack of chairs between him and the wall. His off hand is held stiffly on his chest, his good hand trying to keep the chairs from crashing down.

I grab them quickly, unloading them three at a time, as Crockett holds them back.

“What you did for Kate? Pretty fantastic,” I say. 

He pauses. 

"She's…" he stops.

"She reminds me of me. A younger me. And the me I wish I could be." He takes a moment to rest against the wall, fiddling with the wrap on his wrist. 

He looks up. "Hey, uh, Mouse."

“Yeah?” I watch him fiddle. I don’t know what could possibly be on his mind. A million things, I suspect. 

He looks at me again, and he smiles. 

He swings an arm around me. 

"You're a good man, Gerwitz."

I pull him in for a real hug. God, I love this guy. And as I look around the room, our small apartment filled with the firehouse, and med, and….. looks like the entirety of the Intelligence unit, and Herrmann picking Kelley up off the floor in a hug…. I know we’ve got everyone we need. 

Crockett clears his throat, and pulls me back into the hall far enough it's quieter. 

He pulls a small box from his pocket, and passes it to me. "You're my brother just as much as I'm yours, man," he says quietly. 

I open it, and out falls a metal and leather bracelet. It's braided cord leather with what looks like a silver bicycle chain in the middle. I chuckle. 

“This is sick, man,” I say. The cuff-like bracelet’s silver clasp, though, has something on it. I look over it and see a single word: brother.

“Aww, c’mon, man, gonna make me cry in front of everyone?” I say quietly. 

He pulls me back in for a hug, taking a moment. 

"You're a damn good man, Mouse. And you're a hell of a brother."

“Always been here for you, man. And I know you’ve got my back,” I say, hugging him back. I hear Kate yelling over the chaos. 

“Hey, y’all, can you cut out the bro hugs and get chairs for everyone?”

He laughs and steps back, wiping his eyes. He hauls up a couple of chairs with his good hand and nods for me to go first. Before I do, I clasp the bracelet on my left wrist, next to my watch. Between the two, they hide my scars. 

I start unstacking with a smile. 

Crockett looks up, and smiles at me. 

Yeah.

Brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pure CATHARSIS.


	10. Did that full moon force my hand? Or that unmarked hundred grand?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett, Kelley, Kate, and Mouse start their New Years' celebration early at a karaoke club, but things go downhill—or, debatable, uphill—when Will and Jay come by. Mayhem ensues, this time, led by the alter egos of Crockett and Kate.

**** **December 31, 2019** **   
** **1812 Hours** **   
** **Brando’s Speakeasy, 343 S. Dearborn St.** **   
** **Kate**

I finish touching up my lipstick in the hall mirror. I’m not used to something this dark, or this makeup, to be honest, but we’re actually going out for New Year’s Eve for once. 

I clean up pretty well, I guess. I repurposed the old little black dress I had in the back of the closet and threw the lacy, light grey shawl Greg had gotten me for Christmas in which he should not have. Regardless, I touch the necklace around my neck. The glass and sand pendant hangs long, just long enough for it to be the centerpiece of my outfit. 

I slip on my heels as Mouse steps out of the bedroom. I look him over and draw in a heavy breath. Bright blue dress shirt, already, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He’s pulled his grey suit out of the closet like I did, but only kept the pants and vest-- he had ditched the suit coat. And the bow tie? Oh, the bow tie. I approach him as he tries to fix his hair, and I adjust the crooked tie. 

“You sure we have to go tonight?” I say, “I could think of several ways to use this bowtie.”

“Later,” he says. “I’ve been readin’ my singin’ pipes all day.”

“Singing  _ Chelsea Dagger _ at the top of your lungs does not a warm up make.”

He checks his phone before grabbing my coat and throwing it over my shoulders. “Let’s go. The Uber’s here, and we have to pick up Crockett and Kelley.”

We head downstairs and get into the waiting SUV, and it takes a quiet ten minutes before we’re outside their apartment. With a flourish, Mouse calls one of them--

“Yo! C’mon! Tell Kelley her lipstick is perfect and to get her ass down here! … yes, Will and Jay said they’ll come by later, let’s go!”

Within a few minutes, Crockett opens the front door and Kelley bolts out. 

"It's cold!" She screeches as she climbs into the vehicle. Crockett follows with a chuckle. 

He pulls his jacket tighter around him, pulling off his gloves. Kelley turns around with a gasp. "'Kett, I forgot my-" 

He passes her purse to her without a word. 

She grins and settles into her seat, trying to retie her own bowtie. 

"Evenin', Kate, Hamster," Crockett grins at us. 

“No. Stop. No. You can’t. That’s not a thing. That’s not going to be a thing,” Mouse says, pointing to each one of us.

I roll my eyes. “Kelley, you look adorable. That hat is  _ choice _ .”

"Thank you, honeybuns," she whispers, reaching forward to bump her forehead against mine. "Kate," she lowers her voice even lower. "How hard was it to get Mouse out the door once he saw you in that dress?" 

“Contrary to popular belief, it was I who couldn’t handle leaving the house when I saw him,” I counter. “If I had my druthers, we would have been late picking you up.”

Kelley blinks. "Didn't… didn't see that coming." 

From where he's wedged, Crockett reaches around to tap my hand and sends me a sunny smile in greeting. 

The car stops somewhere near the downtown, and Mouse gets out, opening the door for the rest of us. I gasp when I finally get a good look at Crockett, nearly falling over myself as I struggle out.

“Jesus Christ, Crockett! Holy shit! What are you  _ wearing _ ?”

Kelley scoffs. "Yeah, if he doesn't end up with at least five phone numbers tonight? I'm gonna get him to another bar and make him try there."

He adjusts his leather jacket, a bit self-consciously. "Haven't had a chance to wear it for a long time," he says, a little defensive. I can see his hand reach up to fiddle with the chain around his neck.

“I’ll give him my number,” I mutter. Mouse opens the door for us and I hear him go, “I’ll give him my number, too.”

Kelley giggles, and a flush creeps up Crockett's neck. "That's not how this works," he whispers, rolling his eyes. He waits a second for me to look back at him, then winks at me. 

We go to find a table, but Mouse just hands me his coat and immediately heads for the karaoke sign up. I order us both whiskey before he comes back, looking pleased with himself. 

Kelley's bouncing, and she's already half-manic as she asks for a rum and coke. Crockett just sighs, opting for a bourbon. He stares around, taking in the room. 

I sit down on the bench surveying the place we had chosen to ring in the new year. 

“You just had to get up there, huh?” I ask Mouse, pushing his drink towards him. 

“Oh, I’ve been prepping for this. Loudly. Hey, Kel, you know what you want to sing?”

She almost purrs. "Oh hell yeah, Mouse. I've been ready for ages." 

“Good, because you’re up after me,” he says, taking a long drink. I just smile, enjoying the banter between the two of them. “‘Kett, you gonna sing?”

He nods, almost shyly. "Yeah, yeah I am."

Kelley turns to look at him. "You told me you weren't gonna," she accuses.

He shrugs. "I changed my mind."

Mouse starts clapping. “That’s right, brother! Let’s do this!” And with that, he’s already heading up to the mic. I almost have whiplash. This is a different Mouse than even I know. God, he’s delighted. He’s… he’s so fucking happy. 

And I facepalm when the song starts. It’s a familiar number, one he has performed a number of times. 

“I hear the drums echoing tonight, but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation…”

Crockett whistles loudly, and Kelley groans. "Don't egg him on, CJ."

He gives her a glare. I just roll my eyes. Mouse slips into his attempt at falsetto. Not like I have room to talk, but the song is a little too high for him. He doesn’t care. He just… closes his eyes and sings. 

“It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you!” He sings, pointing dramatically at me. “There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do!”

“Well, fuck,” I mutter, and let out a loud whoop.

Crockett's singing a lower harmony under his breath, watching Mouse.

I start pointing at Crockett, and Mouse sees me. And he beckons for Crockett to come up with him. 

_ Yes _ . 

Crockett blinks, pointing at himself.

In the interlude, Mouse nearly makes it feedback. 

“Paging Dr. Marcel, paging Dr. Marcel to the microphone. Bro, come sing with me!”

Crockett evidently makes up his mind, taking a quick drink before he jumps up beside Mouse. 

I’m just seal clapping as they sing the second verse together, until Mouse mimes the drum solo before the next chorus. 

“It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you!” 

Crockett's voice dips, dropping a third below Mouse's, and the harmony, oh I can't. 

'Kett looks out over the crowd, and winks at Kelley and I.

“There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do! I bless the rains down in Africa!”

I slide over to Kelley, who is simply beaming. 

“Oh, our boys,” I hum, watching as they end up back to back. 

As he jumps down the step, Crockett turns to Mouse and whispers something in his ear, nodding towards the bar. Kelley leans over. "He's going to get another round of drinks," she mutters.

“Well, you heard Mouse. You’re up,” I say, and I realize I’ve already drunk my entire whiskey. 

Oof.

As Kelley makes her way up, Crockett eases back onto his seat. 

"Just want to make sure what you two want," he smiles at us.

“Whiskey. Jameson, preferably,” I say with a smile. I nudge my head to Kelley to go up to the mic. 

"Comin' out of my cage, an' I've been doin' just fine, gotta be down, 'cause I want it all," she starts, high but clear. She's actually singing it, unlike the original. 

I sort of like this better. Crockett grins as she gets fancy, adding a run here and there, and then he turns to me. 

"Want to see how you react when she hits the chorus," he says. 

She turns to us, and then past us. She focuses on someone a ways behind us, and her face lights up as she gets to the refrain. Her voice drops an octave, getting husky but still strong. 

"Jealousy, turning saints into the sea, swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis."

“Damn. Shit, yes!” I yell out. I almost surprise myself by my exclamation, covering my mouth as soon as it comes out. You know what? Fuck that. “That’s my  _ baby!” _ I call out. “Hell yes!”

She grins, and as she gets into the bridge, she lets loose a belt that should be on Broadway. Crockett whistles again, and he looks so proud. 

He nudges me. "Watch this-" he winks as he turns, sauntering off to the bar, easing in beside a man in a suit. 

“Mouse!” I say, smacking his arm. He’s entranced by Kelley, so I keep smacking him until he listens. “Mouse, Mouse, Mouse, Mouse, Mouse! Lookit! Look!”

Crockett turns so his back is against the bar as he gazes at Suit Guy. 

I can't hear what he says, but the way he's looking up from under his lashes, well. The guy's either ramrod straight or a dumbass if he doesn't fall for this.

Crockett flicks his eyes to us, a silent "are you watching?" before he eases closer to Suit Guy, and his hand gently brushes up the guy's sleeve as he nods to the bar.

I hold onto Mouse’s arm tightly, tightly enough that he has to nearly pull away from me. But he doesn’t. And when Kelley slides back into the booth, she starts to speak, but I just point at Crockett, at the bar. 

“Something magical is happening.”

She stares, wide-eyed as Crockett pretty much bats his eyelashes at this stranger. He seems to wait for something Suit Man says, and then smiles, both sweet and almost entrancing. 

Suit Man signals the bartender. 

“Does anyone have popcorn? Mouse, get me some popcorn.”

“I can get you a pizza, maybe?”

“Do… do that,” I say, unable to look away.

As the bartender starts working, Crockett whispers something to him, and the tender nods. Crockett's eyes are on Suit Man the whole time, even darting down to his mouth here and there, even as Suit passes cash to the bartender. Suit actually looks like the only clueless one here.

I wish I knew what Suit was saying. 

The bartender taps Crockett's shoulder, and Crockett winks saucily at Suit before collecting the drinks and high-tailing it back to our table.

I stare at Crockett, mouth agape. Mouse leans his head on his hand, and I see both his watch and the cuff that Crockett had gotten him for Christmas.

Mouse sighs. “I want Crockett to be my gay thing.”

As Crockett leans over to place our drinks in front of us, he winks at Mouse, not unlike the wink he had given to Suit. 

He settles on his chair, and grins wickedly. 

"Well? Any thoughts?" 

I sip out of my fresh drink, still a little lightheaded. “I’m with Mouse, can you be  _ my _ gay thing? Better yet, can you keep flirting with people to get free drinks all night?”

He laughs, and it's a laugh with no inhibitions. 

"You're a married woman, Katie Kat, but as for drinks, I could do this in my sleep." He grins at me, and I see it. The lightest but most effective application of eyeliner I’ve ever seen. Good Lord, that’s why he’s looking particularly snackworthy tonight. 

I lean forward. “Mouse and I have discussed this,” I say, and Mouse perks up, “yes, we would definitely have a threesome with you. There. I said it.”

Mouse snorts his whiskey, but comes back nodding. “I’m into it. Sorry, Kelley.”

Crockett looks down into his bourbon, and the flush crawls high up his cheeks, even reaching the tips of his ears. 

He drains his drink quickly, and I think he's wondering "the hell have I done?"

And with that, he’s lucky, because it’s his turn to sing.

He stands up, and Kelley thumps him on the back as he passes. "Go get them, CJ!"

He turns, walking up backwards for a moment as he makes eye contact with me and runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up. He turns back, a little bounce in his step. 

I let out a little whimper. “Mouse, after he sings, we may have to go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Whatever you need, baby.”

He takes the mic with one hand; his other, hooked into his belt loop. 

He starts almost immediately, and his eyes slip closed as his voice dips first low, then soaring up. 

"There is a house, in New Orleans…. They call the rising sun…"

In the tiny instrumental, his free hand is tapping against his thigh as he takes a breath to continue. The middle of the song, it's breathy and wild, and then his voice jumps out of nowhere, belting the titular words as his free hand comes to cradle the mic, both hands gripping it. As he begins to riff near the end, his eyes open, and he raises an eyebrow as he glances at us.

"It's been the ruin of many a poor boy," he croons, and his voice drops into a near whisper, "And God, I know, I'm one." He steps away from the mic, and his jacket slips off one shoulder, giving him an even more disheveled look. 

He jumps down, practically sashaying back to the table. Kelley high-fives him, and he raises an eyebrow at Mouse and I. 

"Beat that, kids."

“About to,” I say, snapping my fingers. “Mouse, Mouse, Mouse, we gotta go.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me off towards the bathrooms.

**Kelley**

I start cackling as Kate and Mouse hurry away, and Crockett turns to me, his face suddenly concerned. 

"Something happen? They okay?" He asks, nodding towards the direction they went. He looks worried and I can only laugh harder. 

"The hell, Marcel? Why didn't you tell anyone you could sing like  _ that? _ " Will shows up at the table, Jay beside him, still in a sling. 

“Where’d those two go off to in a hurry?” Jay adds, stealing Kate’s drink and downing it in one go.

Crockett still looks worried, and I snort.

"Let's just say… they had some  _ business  _ to take care of." 

Crockett somehow looks even more confused. How the hell is he 37 and still this clueless?

I smile at Jay. "Hey!"

“Hey, Kelley,” he says, leaning into me. He still is recovering, sure, but I want to see the light come back in his eyes. I’m sure we can do it tonight. “How’re you?”

I nuzzle my head into his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. I was worried, you know. I even had to help out CPD and you weren't even around."

“Kate never found out about that, did she?” He says, nodding to Will as Will heads to the bar. 

I blink. "How the  _ hell _ do you know….? I told Voight not to say anything!"

Crockett turns the concerned eye to both Jay and I. "Who knows what?" He asks suspiciously.

“That you’re way hotter than I originally believed. Hey, man. Thanks for your good work,” Jay says, changing the subject swiftly.

Crockett perks up and smiles at him. "Anytime, man. Just stop makin' it a habit, a'right? Raisin' my blood pressure." He reaches out and touches Jay's arm, a look in his eyes. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to hear him.

"Let me know if you need anythin', I can check it, off books if you want," he says lowly. 

I glance up to the other side of the bar, and see Mouse fistbump the Suit Guy, who was waiting to use the bathroom. Kate fixes her hair, her face and her chest still flushed, as they make it back to the table. 

“Hey, guys!” Mouse says, hugging the Halsteads from behind. “Glad you could make it!”

Kate slides onto the couch next to me, glaring at Crockett. 

He leans over me to talk to her. 

"Kate, everythin' okay? Somethin' wrong?" He looks worried, and I'm trying to hold back my laugh.

“Yeah, something is wrong, which Halstead stole my drink?” She hisses. “I need hydration after that!”

Crockett looks even more concerned. 

I push him back so I can lean over to Kate. "Go easy on Jay, okay?"

She nods once, but goes back to glaring at Crockett. “You. You did this.”

Mouse leans past Jay and goes to whisper in Crockett’s ear. 

He blinks. "O-okay." 

He stares at his glass. "I… I need another, another drink. Yep."

“Choices you made,” Kate says in Crockett’s direction. When he goes to leave, she calls after him. “Get me another whiskey!”

“Uh, so Kate, you sang yet?” Will says, nursing his own drink. 

“Ha. No. You know that. I don’t sing in public.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Jay says. “You arranged this evening. You sing in public.”

“When I’m wasted,” she mutters. “I am clearly not wasted at this point.”

“What if I pick a song and need backup?” Will says, standing up. 

“You gotta pick a damn good song,” she says, pointing at him angrily. “You gotta pick a  _ damn _ good song.”

I start giggling. "I gotta see this," I whisper to Jay. When Will comes back from signing up, he starts cackling. 

“You’re gonna sing, too, right, Jay?”

Jay glares at his brother for a second, then shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

Crockett comes back from the bar, and sets a whiskey down in front of Kate. 

As he sits down, I stare at him. 

"Uh… 'Kett."

"Yeah?" 

I wave frantically behind his back to get Jay's attention. 

"There's lipstick on your neck, buddy," I snicker, and Jay pulls a crumpled napkin with writing on it from his hand.

Kate immediately just grabs her phone and the camera sound goes off. “Just… gotta keep this forever, cool, thanks.”

Crockett sighs. "You suck, madam," he says as he points lazily at Kate.

“Not tonight,” she says almost under her breath. Mouse puts up his hand and they high five without looking.

Jay whispers something in Crockett's ear, and he goes red, but I laugh as he leans forward across the table.

His elbows rest on the corner as he looks Kate in the eye, just staring at her. He just stares into her eyes, not even a foot from her. 

She immediately turns, staring back at him without missing a beat. Mouse snorts his whiskey. 

“Oh, dude, don’t do this. Bad idea.”

Without breaking the gaze with Kate, he beckons Mouse closer. "C'mere."

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Kate says under her breath.

I snort as Mouse inches closer, and Crockett turns to him. I stand and get a better angle to watch as he turns on the eyes. 

"Greg…." He purrs. "I could really use another bourbon." 

He just bats his eyes, and I roll mine at Jay. 

Mouse just whimpers. 

“Don’t fall for it,” Kate says. “Mouse, remember the speakeasy bathroom.”

“But… but Kate, if it weren’t for Crockett, we wouldn’t have had to fuck in the speakeasy bathroom.”

“Oh, c’mon!” Jay exclaims. “Really? I don’t want to hear that!”

Crockett pulls back a couple of inches. "If you won't, I can find someone else who'd buy a poor sweet guy a drink," he says, almost mournfully, and he bats his eyes.

I can't decide if I want to throw up or be impressed. 

Crockett winks at Mouse. "Please, darlin'?"

Mouse scrambles to his feet, nearly knocking over his chair. Kate yells at him as he heads to the bar. 

“Really, dude?”

“Look at him!’ He says, gesturing to Crockett. “I can’t. I can’t.”

Kate points her finger at Crockett. “You… your mouth is writin’ checks that your body can’t cash, buddy.”

He looks around quickly before he leans closer, his chin on his clasped hands. "Now listen, darlin', all I know is I live life lightly, Gerwitz. I live life lightly." He looks up at her from under his eyelashes. He touches Kate's nose gently, a wicked grin on his face. 

Will gets to his feet, and Kate’s face immediately changes, showing the sheer horror as Will heads up to the stage, Jay not far behind. 

There’s a single piano note, played three times, until a chord. The brothers Halstead share a quick look. Jay just shakes his head at his brother. 

“When there’s nowhere else to run, is there room for one more son?” Will starts in a beautiful tenor that only Catholic school could train, “one more son?”

Jay’s laugh comes through the microphone, but he takes the next part. “If you can, hold on, if you can, hold on, hold on.”

During the musical interlude, I watch Kate’s face. She shifts from almost surprised, then sighs, shutting her eyes, and then chugs the rest of her whiskey and then steals Crockett’s bourbon before running to the stage and stealing Jay’s mic. 

I jump up on my seat. "KC and the Halstead Boys! Live in concert!" 

Crockett's whistling beside me.

"You got this, gorgeous!"

He settles back into his chair, watching our friends on stage.

“I need direction to perfection, no, no, no, no--” Kate sings, and then KC and the Halstead Boys burst to life. Will seems to be the strongest singer, taking the harmony, while Kate and Jay sing the melody as Kate holds the mic for the two of them. None of them are using the lyric screens. 

“Help me out, yeah, you know you gotta help me out, yeah, oh, don’t you put me on the back burner, you know you gotta help me out, yeah!”

Crockett whistles again, and I turn to him. 

"You know I now know way too much about you, right?" I say flatly, and he smiles, once, quick, but it's brilliant and blinding. 

"I'm aware, he agrees. He puts an arm around me, and I lean into him. "This was a helluva good idea," he whispers. 

“I brought presents!” Mouse calls out, and now he’s holding a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of bourbon. “You’re not the only one who can con a guy, you know,” he stage-whispers to Crockett. “Holy shit, it’s happening.” He finally looks up to the stage. 

Crockett grins, taking the bourbon and planting a quick kiss on Mouse's cheek. "Thank you, darlin', you just got about ten times hotter," he says in his ear. As he sits down I whisper to him, "stop raising Mouse's blood pressure!"

"No, I'm havin' fun, don't be a buzzkill," he mutters back, a smirk on his face and a wink to Mouse.

“Yeah, you’re gonna bring yourself down,” they all sing, and there’s a single guitar. Both Halsteads look to Kate, who clutches her mic like it’s the only thing she’s got left in the world. 

“I got soul, but I’m not a soldier,” she sings, her eyes closed. There’s a little bit more, I think, but she just belts it out. I’ve never heard her sing like this, I realize. It’s not a choir-boy voice like Will’s, or a gentle baritone like Jay’s. It’s a sultry alto, and it sounds like the bourbon Crockett is drinking. 

But then she shifts up, singing the middle harmony, with Jay taking the melody, and Will taking the higher part. All three of them sing it in the way they have to: with a desperate need in their hearts. It’s almost mesmerizing, seeing those three. I see them, the way I know them, and at the same time, I see the summer of 2004, the stories she told me about their high school days, before any of them had seen the shit they’d seen. 

“Over and in, last call for sin, while everyone’s lost, the battle is won with all these things that I’ve done,” Will finishes. Kate just manages to air guitar, the alcohol slipping into her blood like a warm blanket.

“If you can, hold on, if you can, hold on,” Will sings, and as the drums signal the end of the song, Kate grabs both of their hands and leading an extravagant bow. Jay and Will have to practically carry Kate off the stage. 

Crockett's on his feet, whistling and clapping.

"That's my girl, well done, Halsteads!" 

He sits down with an easy smile. "That was absolutely brilliant, and I'm proud'a y'all."

He reaches out to take Kate's hand and kisses it, the dumbass gentleman he is. "Now that was pure stunnin', ma'am," he drawls, shooting her a wink. "How 'bout another whiskey?" 

I roll my eyes.

**Kate**

I’m drunk. I’m definitely drunk. But I can’t care. This is the best I’ve felt in… a while. 

Gonna hate myself in the morning, though!

“Yes, please!” I say, pushing my glass with two hands towards ‘Kett. “Boys, that was beautiful. That was some of our damn best work. I got soul, but I’m not a soldier!”

Wyew. Breathing. Oof. I check my phone. Ah. Yes. Good. He’s on his way.

I lean over and kiss Mouse on the cheek. “Hey, baby!” 

He grins at me. “Hey, I’m gonna go sing again, okay?”

“Did you sign up?” I ask. “I didn’t see you sign up.”

“I think you’re gonna start forgetting a lot, aren’t you, babe?” He says, grinning. 

“Bleh!” I say. “I am Irish. I do not get drunk, I get awesome. What are you singin’?”

“I’m gonna need your help,” he says, standing up. 

“I don’t even know what song it is!” I say. “Ask Kelley, she can sing it with you.”

She shakes her head, pointing towards the stage. "Go sing with your damn husband, Gerwitz!"

I look, and Mouse has already grabbed the mic, the fuckin’ nutjob. I listen for a second, trying to place the tinny sounding xylophone.

And then Mouse lets loose with the voice that only I’m allowed to hear, dammit, and now this entire bar gets it too!

“Listen, baby! Ain’t no mountain high, ain’t no valley low, ain’t no river wide enough, baby!”

I kick off my heels, because I cannot wear them anymore, I will fall over, and I run up to the stage quick enough to get the other mic. 

“I hate you so much,” I hiccup, before singing my part. “If you need me call me, no matter where you are, no matter how far--”

“Don’t worry, baby!”

“Just call my name, I’ll be there in a hurry, you don’t have to worry,” I sing, and he just nods to me. Instead of looking out to the rest of the bar, who was now whooping and whistling, I look to him. I just watch him. “‘Cause baby, there ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no river wide enough to keep me from gettin’ to you, babe.”

I’m just drunk enough to let a few tears fall from my eyes. Yeah. Yeah, ain’t this the truth. And when we make it to the key change, and I can feel my voice already starting to go from the sheer alcohol and use, he puts his mic back on the stand and pulls me into for a kiss.

"Get it, Kate!" I can hear Kelley yell. Mouse just dips me down lower, then very nearly picks me up to take me back to the table. When we get there, Will pushes a water towards me. I drink about half of it in one go.

Crockett taps the table in front of me. "Jameson, right?" He asks with a sly grin. 

“When she finishes that glass of water, yes,” Will says. In retaliation, I chug the rest of the ice water, the coldness making me cringe, then I turn back to ‘Kett. “Yes. Jameson. All day, errday.”

“Dude, she’s gonna be so hungover tomorrow,” Jay says to Mouse. Mouse just nods knowingly.

“I don’t get hungover, I’m--”

“Irish,” the entire table says in unison.

“This is racist,” I mutter, sitting back into the soft couch.

'Kett stands up, and smiles down at me. "A'right, Katie, c'mon. I need a hand. Mouse, I'm borrowin' your wife."

“Anything for you, Crockett,” I say dreamily. “You look really nice, you know? That jacket. Sexy. Do I need to sing?” 

He shakes his head, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. 

"Mouse, you might wanna watch this," he says, and he winks at me. 

“Should I bring my drink?” I say, reaching for my whiskey. 

"Chug it first," he helpfully suggests.

He does the same with his bourbon. I eye him first, whispering, “Do you have any IV’s handy?”

He shrugs. "I don't carry much on me on nights like these, darlin'. Listen. Just… just snuggle up and stick close. If anybody asks, you're with me."

“Oh, okay, cool,” I find myself slurring. “Do I look okay? How’s my lipstick?” I purse my lips and fluff my hair. “Is this a sober game type deal? Or should I shut my mouth?”

He laughs, head tilting back. "This ain't a sober deal, darlin'. Just play it out." He puts his arm around me, and pulls me in the direction of the bar. 

"Just act as out of it you can, but not enough to get me arrested for drugging you," he giggles. "We about to scam some people for drinks, baby."

I gasp. “Crockett James Marcel,” I say, touching his face. “You  _ are _ my people.” 

He kisses my forehead. "We're the same, you and I, Katie." He stops a ways off, staring at the people along the bar. "Okay, game plan. How good at acting down to fuck are you?" 

“To you, or to strangers?” I hiccup. “Because those are two vastly different answers,  _ a stór. _ ”

He ignores the open question. "Yes," he says. "Just assume we're just trying to sleep around." He facepalms. "Not actually. Just act like it. God, what am I saying?" He mutters to himself.

“On the prowl,” I growl. “Got it. More alcohol, let’s go!”

He pulls me closer, and nods towards a guy with a beer in his hand. 

Crockett takes a breath and then muscles in beside him, pulling me with an "oof" into his chest. He grins drunkenly, kissing my hair. 

"Just wait a minute, baby," he says before shooting a dazzling smile at the guy. "Hey handsome," he says lowly.

The guy turns to us, eyebrow raised. "Hey," he replies, and he looks us up and down. "What's a hot girl and guy like you doing in a place like this?" 

Crockett winks at me before leaning on his arm, inches from the guy. "Wondered if maybe a stud like you would be up for a drink for me and my girl?" I just smile in his direction. I probably look wasted, but that’s fine. 

The guy gets a slow smile, staring at both of us. "What's in it for me?"

I bite my lip, chuckle, and then give him an innocent smile. “In case you haven’t heard, I’ve already had sex in this bar’s bathroom once tonight.”

Crockett hums, landing a kiss on my neck before inching forward. His hand runs lightly over the guy's cheek, and he leans in to the guy's ear. "What's your name, hot stuff?" I stifle a giggle. Focus, drunk Kate. Focus.

"Austin," he murmurs, eyes wide.

Crockett giggles, low and deep as he practically leans into his lap. 

"Whatcha say about that drink…. Austin?" He drawls the syllables out, and it's almost obscene. 

Austin's eyes are flicking between us, and then he leans forward. "Why should I buy two complete strangers drinks?" He asks, and his eyes linger on me. 

He's teasing us. So I reach out my hand to his, giving him my best come hither smile. 

“Shannon McCafferty.” Crockett blinks at me, but nods. “And this? This is my husband, Ronan Lohani, he’s a model, I’m his manager. There. We aren’t strangers anymore.”

Crockett stares at me, then winks at Austin. "Listen, honey," he purrs, hands roving behind his neck. "Shan and I, we've been lookin' all night, finally found you."

While ‘Kett plays hard ball—ha—I start the endgame. “Oh, Ronan, honey, I don’t think he wants to play with us tonight,” I say, starting to pout. “There might be more fun guys down the road at 2Twenty2.”

He shrugs, his eyes still on Austin. 

"Hey no, wait!" Austin says, and he runs a hand down Crockett's cheek. 

"Shannon, is it?" He says, talking to me while he drinks in Crockett's dreamy eyes.

“Of course, darling,” I say, continuing the fiction of me being drunk off my ass and down to fuck. Well, at least one of those things is true. I chuckle to myself.

"What can I do for you two, then?" He asks, seriously now, even as Crockett winks at me. 

With barely a sound, he's planted a hand on the bar and Austin's shoulder, and hops up onto Austin's lap. One arm goes around his neck while the other lands on the guy's chest.

"Listen, baby," he whispers, lips ghosting but not touching Austin's jaw line. "Just want a chance, a game, honey, understand?" His hand presses into the guy's chest. From where I stand, I see Crockett’s hand slip into his jacket. "Some playtime, for my girl, here."

I know the drill. I know what he’s doing. I slip behind him and take the drop, slipping the wallet into my hand and then the small of my back like I’m in parade rest. God, he’s good. God, he’s scary. I’m glad he’s a doctor. Why do I surround myself with such chaotic people? 

He leans forward and strokes down Austin's face, taking in the guy's wide eyes and breathlessness, and he takes enough pity on him to blow a kiss to him as he slides down off his lap. 

“Good boy,” I purr to Crockett, biting my lip again. “So, Austin, you think you have what it takes to take me?” I say as innocently as I can, leaning in as close as I can, without touching him.

Austin grins, and he slips a hand around my waist, dipping lower than would be ideal. 

"I think so, babydoll," he says, moving in closer. And as his hand slips low enough, low enough to grab my ass, I toss the wallet to Crockett and in one smooth motion, I have his roving hand pinned behind his back and his head on the bar. 

“Excuse you, asshole!” I say, my voice changing timbre completely. The bartender and the bouncer both arrive, and I’ve got our mark woefully pinned so tightly, he can’t speak. “Tried to get handsy!” I explain to the bouncer. 

I let him go, and he looks horrified. I think he’s shell shocked, even as the bouncer drags him off the bar stool, tells him he’s banned, and kicks him out the door. 

I wink at Crockett, then grab for the wallet. Opening it, I pull out the wad of cash, minus a pair of twenties, slip it into his jacket pocket, then turn back to the bartender, who was now extremely apologetic. I mime bending over, and show him the wallet.

“I think he dropped this somewhere between him grabbing me and me kicking his ass,” I say, turning it over. The bartender looks at it, then throws it behind the counter. 

“I’ll mail it to him.”

“Sounds good. You think you could get me a whiskey and my husband here a bourbon?”

“On the house. Been tryin’ to get rid of that guy for weeks.”

I turn back to Crockett with a smug smile.

He just beams back, hand gently on my cheek. "You amaze me," he whispers.

I reach back to grab our drinks and offer him his bourbon. “You didn’t know what you were gettin’ into, huh?”

He shrugs. "He was a bit more slimy than I thought. Quick thinking, by the way."

“I can read a room,” I say, heading back to the table. Once we get there, we’re met with a round of applause, led mostly by Mouse.

“Another asshole down, led by Shannon McCafferty and her model husband, Ronan… what did I call you? I’m definitely too drunk for this.”

"Lohani, I think," he hums, staggering a bit. "Mouse, your wife is amazing," Crockett hums.

“Did she do the BDSM bit again?” Mouse says, squinting. I glare at him. 

“Not in front of the kids!”

“Whatever. How much you get?”

I reach into Crockett’s pocket, and start peeling off twenties. Jay covers his eyes with his hand.

“Four hundred and sixty dollars,” I coo. “Drinks are on me and Crockett tonight!”

“We signed you up to sing,” Will says, pointing at the two of us. ‘Thought you would commemorate the occasion. Crockett, you’re up with Kelley right after.”

With a groan, Crockett peels off the top twenty, tucking it into his pocket. 

He wipes his hand on his pants. "I touched that sleazeball," he mutters.

“And the world is better for it,” I say, clasping his face in my hands. “Shit. We need to do a song. Pick a song. C’mon. Wait. Wait, I think I have an idea. Kelley, do you know what you two are singing?!”

She nods. "Yeah, we picked it earlier, Imagine Dragons." 

Crockett reaches over, chugging half his bourbon. I follow suit and chug all my whiskey, and then I point at his face. 

“You. Can you sing country folk.”

He nods, and he smirks. "Course I can. Grew up in Louisiana, darlin'."

I bound up to the stage. I’m still barefoot, fuck. I make sure I can find the song and I point at it when Crockett comes up. He just lets out a musical laugh.

“How thematic.”

I laugh at him through the intro and don’t get a chance to harmonize with him before the guitar kicks in. But he’s ready for his part.

“I’m a dead man walkin’ here, but that’s the least of all my fears.”

“Ooh, underneath the water,” I harmonize.

“It’s not Alabama clay that gives my tremblin’ hands away--”

“Ooh, please forgive me, Father.”

Damn. We can harmonize… somethin’ fierce. Shit. I never thought his tone and mine would match so well. 

“Ain’t goin’ back to Barton Hollow, Devil gonna follow me e’er I go. Won’t do me no good washin’ in the river. Can’t no preacher man save my soul.”

And that’s about where my memory of the night ends.


	11. When the Night Falls, My Lonely Heart Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew continues their New Year's Eve frivolities as a new member of their crew appears, throwing Kelley off her game completely. After having a chat with her teammate and coming to an inevitable conclusion, they wrap the night up with a performance of a lifetime by Dr. Crockett Marcel, Dr. William Halstead, Detective Jay Halstead, and Professor Gregory Gerwitz.  
Don't worry about Kate, she's black out drunk at this point.

_ Oh, I Wanna Feel the Heat With Somebody _ _   
_ **December 31, 2019** **   
** **2256 Hours** **   
** **Brando’s Speakeasy, 343 S. Dearborn St.** **   
** **Kelley**

I'm impressed.

I'm also concerned a bit. Both Kate and Crockett are going to have  _ massive  _ hangovers. 

But then Crockett's tugging at my hand, and I follow him up the stage. 

His voice, slightly hoarse from the night, still holds the buttery charm, and he just smiles. His smile shifts from high-spirited to a softer, brotherly smile.

"When the days are cold, and the cards all fold, and the saints we see are all made of gold," he sings, and I can see uncertainty and love in his eyes. 

As I join in, his hand takes mine and we shift into the chorus. I jump up, harmonizing from above. "When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It's where my demons hide," he smiles and I riff gently behind him. "Don't get too close, it's dark inside, it's where my demons hide, it's where my demons hide."

This song just hits more after the last week and a half. Maybe we're getting somewhere. He gets fancy, and I belt the melody as his voice melds with mine. 

As the song fades away, he pulls me into him, hugging me tightly. 

When I go to step down, I see a face. I see Tommy. I'm off the stage and into the crowd in seconds. 

"Tommy," I say, stopping and staring at him. "Didn't realize you were here," I say dumbly.

"Just got here," he smiles, and I step forward, wrapping my arms around him. "Glad you're here, Tommy."

He returns the hug just as quickly, and he pulls me close, almost for a half second too long before letting go. “Kate… she here? She’s the one who texted me.”

"Yeah!" I say, pulling him by the hand through the crowd until I hit our table.

"Kate, looking who's here!" I can't stop staring at him. He's so cute. And hot. But the laughter coming from Kate is enough for me to look at her.

And she is  _ wasted. _ Will surreptitiously swaps her whiskey for water, and she doesn’t even notice. When she turns to me, her face lights up.

“Kelley! You brought a friend! It’s  _ Raz!” _ She emphasizes. “Raz, buddy! Hi! I love you. I do. I love you so damn much, look at you, in that shirt and suspenders. God. I didn’t you know you were so cute, buddy! You should sign up to sing!”

Mouse can’t even function. He’s just shaking his head, laughing behind his hand, as she rants. 

“Actually, Tilly, already did,” Raz says, hands in his pockets. He looks at me, almost bashfully. 

I smile at him softly. "I wanna hear it," I whisper to him. 

He leans back, checking the stage, and then holds up a finger, grinning, and stepping backwards to the stage. 

“He’s so cute,” Kate hums. “Kelley, when are you gonna marry him?”

I choke on my water. 

"Kate! Hush!" 

I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Wait, I definitely know why I’m so nervous. 

He takes the mic, and all he can do is look at the floor. Until the light piano starts. 

I stare at him, and the lights on him… it takes my breath away. He takes my breath away. 

“It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside,” he starts. His voice is… pure, it’s clear, it’s… “I’m not one of those who can easily hide. I don’t have much money, but, boy, if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live.”

My eyes water and I can't help it as I listen to him. Kate gasps. 

“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh no.”

“If I was a sculptor, but then again, no, or a man who makes potions in a traveling show. I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do—my gift is my song, and this one’s for you.”

He looks up. He looks up as his voice gets stronger, and he looks at me. Kate’s eyes are just… boring into me. Mouse’s mouth is just agape, unapologetically. 

“Did you know?” He whispers to Kate. “You didn’t know.”

“I didn’t know!” She slurs. “Did you?”

“I didn’t—”

"Shut up!" I hiss, eyes fixed on Tommy.

My heart just grew like… fourteen sizes. 

I can't believe he's singing, and singing  _ this. _

“And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple but now that it’s done, I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words… how wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”

He’s watching me. He doesn’t see anyone else in the room. Kate can’t stop giggling. 

I smile softly at him again, and I can't breathe. But in such a good way. 

“So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do, you see, I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue. Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean, yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve seen,” he croons. He’s really hit his stride now.

I don't know about my eyes, but I know I can't stop watching him. It's like he's the only one there, and I get to hear him inside his own head. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words, how wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”

There's tears on my face as I watch him, and I don't mind. He's so amazing. 

There’s kind of a hush through the bar when he meekly steps off the stage, his hands back in his pockets as he makes it back to our table. In fact, no one can seem to talk. 

Except Kate, of course.

“Daaaaaamn, Raz,” she slurs, her mouth not making it to her straw the first time. “Really gonna shoot your shot tonight, huh?”

I blush, then look up to him. Oh. He.. he must have a date, I realize. He's all dressed up, and Kate said he was gonna shoot his shot. 

Oh.

His cheeks blush, and they blush hard, as he tries to hide from Kate’s blunt comment. “So, uh, you guys got an early start?” He says, glancing around the table and landing on me. 

I can't help myself, I just love watching him. 

I wish he didn't have a date, or I'd probably climb him. Kate’s eyes are boring into me again, and she switches between Tommy and I several times before I see her mouth open.

Oh, Lord. Here we go.

“Hey, Raz, what plans did we steal you from tonight?” She asks bluntly.

“Nothin’, actually,” he shrugs. “Honestly? Home with my dog.”

Kate lets out this pigeon like squawk. “What, not hangin’ with your girlfriend or boyfriend?”

She gives me a very obvious wink.

“Uh, no, don’t have either,” he offers, glancing to me awkwardly.

I catch my breath, and I jump up. "Tommy, can we talk?" 

“Huh?” he says, eyebrows raising. He nearly stumbles out of his chair. “Sure, uh, what’s… what’s up?”

I shake my head. "Not here. Needs to be just us," I say, then groan. I'm relatively sober, I had what, one, two drinks? And I'm incoherent as hell. 

“Do you, wanna… step outside?” He says, scrambling to grab his coat by Kate. She hands it to him, smiling wide. 

I nod, and I don't have words that I can actually say, they're trapped in my mouth. I lick my lips, so dry.

He silently steps outside, and we walk around the corner. I don’t know where he thinks we’re going, but if we’re not out eyeshot and earshot of that bar, Kate is going to be listening for sure. 

We head down the other side of the street, under the L, near a small park before he stops, kicking the stones on the sidewalk at his feet.

"Tommy, I'm really glad to see you," I whisper.

Everything he does seems distracted. He’s tapping his feet, his running a hand through his hair, he’s looking at the cars as they go by in the late Chicago evening. When I speak, though, he perks up.

“Uh, yeah. I’m… I’m glad Kate called. Are you… are you havin’ fun? Tonight?”

I nod. "It's better when you got here." I want to step forward but it's like I'm frozen. Maybe he wouldn't like it. 

He doesn’t move though. Instead, he inches closer. “Are you cold? I mean, it’s kinda cold out here. Wait, you’re from Canada, I’m sure this is like, summer to you, right?” He chuckles, but his humor fades a little, like he’s nervous.

I blink and I'm not really cold, but I inch under his arm. "Is this okay?" I ask, wide eyed.

He grins, and then seemingly tries to hide it, still pulling me close. If I look, I could probably see his heart on his coat sleeve.

“So, uh, what did you want to talk about?”

I start stammering. I have no in between, I'm either raring to go or I'm a dumb blonde.

"Well… Tommy… I just-"

“Thanks for inviting me, by the way. Kate said it was your idea,” He says, pulling me closer. I can hear his heartbeat through his shirt.

Oh, Kate's gonna have hell to pay for setting this up and not telling me.

"Y-yeah," I say. I nuzzle into his chest. He's so warm and I can't help the sigh.

“I… I really like hanging out with you, you know,” he says, clearing his throat. “I mean, off the rink, too. Like at Tilly and Mouse’s wedding. That was fun. We should… we should do more stuff like that. Together.”

"Oh yeah, hell yeah, I'm down," I whisper. I can't stop myself now, this train's going to hell, baby.

My hand comes up to touch his cheek, and I stare into his eyes.

“Hey, Kelley? I have… I have a question, and it’s okay if you say no,” he whispers.

"Ask it, ask it," I whisper, still drinking him in.

“I feel like if I don’t kiss you right now, I’m going to regret it,” he says.

I blink, and I surge up on my tiptoes to meet him. In one smooth motion, he slides his hand under my hair, and he kisses me. Lightly at first, and he quickly pulls away, then seems to change his mind. I lose the warmth of his coat when he shifts, pulling me closer with a hand on my waist, and suddenly, that warmth is back as I find myself in his embrace. He only stops when I break, gasping in a sharp breath as he rests his forehead against mine. 

Well, shit.

"Tommy," I gasp, and I gaze up at him. My knees may or may not be weak, and I just- he just kissed- 

Oh boy.

Only one thing to do, so I reach up and kiss him again. He nearly picks me up off my feet, and I let out a squeal before he sets me carefully down on my feet.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat in his typical buying-himself-some-time way. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

"Will you…. Would you go out with me?" I breathe, my hand slipping behind his neck to pull him closer.

And just like that, his face lights up. He’s grinning and blushing, and nodding emphatically. 

“That was the question this whole time? Damn. Awesome. Cool. I mean, yeah! Absolutely.”

"I… I still have your hat," I whisper. "Wanted to kiss you that day on that call."

“I thought I lost it!” He chuckles. “Good. Good, I mean, I’m glad you have it. Kelley, you’re such a badass! That was amazing what you did!” He completely breezes past the second part of my statement. 

So I repeat it, as I kiss his nose like I did.

"I wanted to kiss you, goof," I whisper to him, and I can't stop smiling. 

“You should’ve,” he says, shrugging. “Why didn’t you?”

"I didn't think you were interested… I just started petting your face and you didn't react, so I thought you didn't…"

“Oh?  _ Oh,” _ he says, like it cycles through his brain a few times. “Oh. I had no idea. I…” He shifts on his feet, still holding a hand to my waist. “I’m a little slow when it comes to this kinda thing? I mean… not always good with the whole social interactions business…” he trails off.

I stop, realizing something. "Yeah you're pretty much me," I whisper as I chase his lips. My hand cradles his cheek as I kiss him. The blush on his cheeks is pretty much permanent at this point.

When we break again, he gives me another wide smile. “So, Kate said something, but uh… what did you think? About…. In there?” He says, gesturing with his head towards the bar.

"Which part?" I smile.

“My song,” he says. “Well, I mean, technically it’s  _ Your Song _ , but…” he trails again.

"You sing like an angel, honey," I tell him, the name just slipping out. "It's always been special, but now?" I lean my forehead on his cheek. "It's our song. Is… is that okay?"

He stutters even worse now. “You… you want us to have a song? That’s-that’s awesome. Cool. Great. Cool. Yeah, fantastic!”

I cut him off with another kiss. "You're the absolute sweetest."

He’s still beaming. It’s like he can’t stop. “So, you wanna head back in? They’re gonna start wonderin’ where we went, you know?”

I hold up a finger. "On one condition, honey."

It’s like he melts for a moment, just nodding.

"Don't think this is the last time we're locking lips tonight."

He just lets out a weak laugh that sounds like a whimper. 

I kiss his nose, then pull his hand. "Let's go, c'mon, Tommy, c'mon!"

I lead him back into the bar, and I see KC and the Halstead Boys on the stage again. Kate looks like she’s using the mic stand to keep herself up, and the song’s lyrics slip from her lips with accuracy she should not have the cognition to complete.

“I sit in and dwell on faces past, like memories, seem to fade. No color left, but black and white and soon we’ll all turn grey. But may these shadows rise to walk again with lessons truly learnt. When the blossoms flowers in each our hearts, shall beat a new found flame-- Hey, Kelley!” She calls out at the end. The Halsteads take the last chorus, because Kate is nearly on the floor.

“Must it take a life for hateful eyes to glisten once again? ‘Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess, singin’ drunken lullabies!”

Kate just bails before the violin tune finishes, coming up to me and spinning me around. “Did you guys have fun outside? What’d you talk about, hmm?” 

I blush and step backward, my back hitting Tommy's chest and I smile up at him, Kate forgotten. Kate seems to forget, too, sliding into the booth with Mouse. He throws his arm around her shoulder, but I know that look. He’s trying to keep her sitting. If she moves again, she might just fall down. 

But there’s a deep discussion happening at the table, with various levels of drunkenness. Will was only moderately drunk, Jay was barely tipsy, Crockett… I don’t even know what to say about him. That's gonna be a fun morning. 

But what the  _ hell  _ are they talking about? 

I'm concerned the second I hear the words "Christina Aguilera."

"Tommy," I whine, turning my face into his chest. "Someone's gonna die tonight." I slip my hands into his back pockets to keep me steady as I lean into him. And he just steadies me with a hand on my waist. Kate raises an eyebrow. 

“Who can rap?” Will says, pointing to each guy in turn. Jay’s thumb ends up pointing at Mouse.

“Yeah, I can rap,” Mouse shrugs. Kate just stares at him, mouth agape. 

Crockett reaches over to fist bump Mouse with a smirk. Will is already halfway to the stage to sign up. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Kate tries to whisper to Mouse, but she has no inside voice now. “You never told me you could rap!”

He leans towards her and kisses her. “Gotta surprise you sometime, huh?”

I snort. "How the hell did you convince Will? Furthermore, what the hell are you all doing?"

Crockett beams at me. "Art, darlin'. Art." 

I groan as he winks at Kate and Mouse both, then plants a kiss on Jay's cheek. 

At this point, I'm embarrassed for him. 

But we’re closer and closer to midnight, and 2020, and the possibility of Kate just straight up passing out. 

“I need another drink!” She yells. “Raz! Razzy! Razzy-boy! Why’re you and Kelley attached at the hip?”

I look Tommy in the eye. "Forgive me, honey," I whisper as I reach up, pulling his head down and I meet him in the middle, my lips landing on his and I giggle into the kiss.

Kate is literally inconsolable. She just starts…. yelling incomprehensible noises. 

I break the kiss long enough to murmur, "Is this okay?" to him, my hand tangled in his hair. 

Tommy can’t speak. He’s just as incomprehensible as the wasted Kate. 

I go easy on him and bestow another kiss on his nose as I pull back, snuggling back into him.

"I asked a question, people," I remind them. "The hell is actually going on??"

Will is already at a mic. Kate gets out her phone, but Tommy finally breaks from me to take it. She’s trying to take a video. 

“I would like to call up Dr. Crockett Marcel to the stage!” 

I watch as Crockett snorts, takes a sip of his bourbon before knocking it back. He's on his feet, stumbling before pointing at Will. He's moving closer, but he's being a drama queen again. He gets on the stage and wraps an arm around Will's waist with a grin. 

Will puts the mic in Crockett’s face. 

“My very good friend, my brother, Professor Gregory Gerwitz, I call you to the stage.”

Mouse just sighs, but he’s got a grin on his face. Kate just watches wide-eyed until he makes it up, taking the second mic—”Jay Halstead, your mic is calling.”

“We ain’t gonna blow your spot,” Crockett mutters into the mic, almost making it feedback.

“I’m being told that this will be the last performance of the night,” Will says. “So let’s make it a good one, boys.”

And then all four of them settle in, glancing at each other, like they’re all asking, ‘are we gonna do this?’

Mouse shakes his head at Raz, but he keeps the phone recording going.

And then he starts snapping. 

“Where’s all my soul sistas? Lemme hear y’all flow, sistas.”

I almost can’t hear the others come in with the  “Hey, sista, go, sista; soul sista, flow sista” over Kate’s yelling.

I could scream, but I settle for hysterical giggling. I have to see this, this is the cap on the shit year that was 2019. Except I got Tommy. 

Focus, Kelley. 

Crockett's voice has dipped again, and has watching Will as he struts his stuff.

Will is practically belting, the dumbass—“He met Marmalade down in old Moulin Rouge, struttin’ her stuff on the street! She said, ‘hello, hey Joe, you wanna give it a go?’ Oh!”

“Gitchie, gitchie ya-ya, da-da. Gitchie, gitchie ya-ya, here. Mocha Chocolata, ya-ya, Creole Lady Marmalade!”

How are they singing in harmony? Did they plan this when we were gone? Do they just, God forbid,  _ know it? _

Crockett leads the charge with the French chorus. How does Will know the harmony? “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?"

And then I remember the night I was drunk off my ass and Crockett sat me down to watch fuckin' Moulin Rouge. 

Yeah, he for sure knows this damn thing. 

I chance a look at Kate. Her mouth is agape. She can’t look away. It’s like a trainwreck, but it’s beautiful. 

Even in his sling, Jay grooves. He desperately deserved tonight. He needed tonight. I can see it on his face. “He sat in her boudoir while she freshened up, boy drank all that Magnolia wine... on her black satin sheets where he started to freak, yeah.”

As they slip back into the chorus, I hear Kate giggling. We both know what part of the song is coming, and I don’t know if she can handle it. 

Mouse turns around, and when he comes back, he has Jay’s aviator sunglasses on. With the confidence of Kanye, he starts rapping the bridge.

“We come through with the money and the garter belts. Let him know we 'bout that cake straight out the gate. We independent women, some mistake us for whores, I'm sayin', "Why spend mine when I can spend yours?" Disagree? Well, that's you, and I'm sorry.  I'mma keep playing these cats out like Atari. Wear high heel shoes, get love from the dudes. Four badass chicks from the Moulin Rouge.”

If Kate was going to pass out, it would be right now. The flush against her face from before has faded to near pallidness. She’s frozen. 

“We drink wine with diamonds in the glass, by the case, the meaning of expensive taste. If you want gitchie, gitchie, ya-ya, mocha chocolata, real Lady Marmalade. One more time, c’mon.”

He mimes dropping the mic, and then blows a kiss to Kate before—

Wait, is that  _ Crockett? _

He's riffing, and he's… woah. Wow, okay. I've heard him sing before but he's hardcore belting, and his voice is just butter.

“Hey, hey, hey! Touch of her skin, feelin’ silky smooth, oh, color of cafe au lait, alright, made the savage beast inside roar until he cried more--”

The boys respond with their own “More!”

“More--”

“More!”

Jay and Mouse are back to back at this point, harmonizing—“Now he’s back home, doin’ nine to five!”

Will—“He’s livin’ the grey flannel life!”

I'm wheezing, and I have to hold on to Tommy to stay upright. Kate's face is priceless, and the boys are just… wow. Crockett is having  _ way  _ too much fun, and I almost choke as he moves up behind Mouse, his hand on his arm, and I look again to Kate.

Kate has just taken to seal clapping. In fact, she’s wiping tears from her face as she laughs. 

“Oh, baby, turn off sleep, memories creep,” Crockett sings, before waving enough to amp the rest of the crew up. “More--”

“More!”

“More--”

“More!”

“Gitchie, gitchie ya-ya, da-da. Gitchie, gitchie ya-ya, here. Mocha Chocolata, ya-ya--”

And then Crockett belts one more time. He smirks as he lets his jacket slip off, and he tosses it careless to the step as he turns around to dance up to Jay.

“Creole Lady Marmalade!”

I think Kate is praying at this point. I see her cross herself out of the corner of my eye. 

Mouse pulls down the aviators as he starts his outro in not the way I expect. First, he nods to Crockett. “Crockett—”

He does his own Christina- like riff. 

“Jay—”

Jay just breaks down into laughter, unable to continue, and responds with, “Mouse!”

Mouse does his own rapping riff before pointing and saying “Will!”

He responds with his own “oooo!”

And then all of them start bursting into laughter. Jay’s giggle was infectious, it seems. Crockett barely croaks out a “Moulin Rouge” before their finale, a barely harmonized, giggle infested riff of “Creole Lady Marmalade”.

I can't stop laughing. And when they all take a theatrical bow, and turn it over for the New Year’s celebration, Kate struggles to her feet and kisses Mouse in the middle of the bar. Everyone’s watching, and Mouse clutches to her desperately, laughing as she kisses him into various states of dishevelment. 

“Take me to bed or lose me forever!” She yells, but he shushes her, taking her back to the table. She just keeps her hand in his, unable to look away from him, as he pushes Jay’s sunglasses onto his head. 

I turn and hop up to sit on the table, pulling Tommy close. 

"Hey, honey," I smile softly. I'm so glad I'm not smashed. I want to remember this forever. 

“Hey!” He’s just grinning wildly, and when he hears the countdown, and the bar start to get louder, he seems to internally panic.

"Hey, hey," I whisper, and I cradle his face in my hands. "Focus on me, baby." I gaze into his eyes, drinking him in again.

“I always am,” he says, seemingly under his breath and out of his head. “Hey. Thanks for inviting me out tonight. I… I, uh, I would have probably just binged the  _ Ocean’s Eleven _ movies until I made it to midnight. But this? This… this is nice.”

I gently kiss his forehead. 

"What if you and I binged them together?"

“You like…. You like heist movies?” He seems to chuckle. “Really? How the hell… hockey, heist movies, firefighter…” He drifts again, before, for the first time of the night, becoming truly confident. “I think 2020 is gonna be a fantastic year.”

I stare into his eyes, and a line from  _ Notting Hill  _ runs through my mind. I whisper it absently as I lose myself in his gaze. "I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her," I say, my heart beating as I smile at him.

He stares at me, an almost dumb look on his face, until he bursts into a wide smile. 

And then there’s cheering. All I can see is him. And he pulls me into him in what I think is a New Year’s kiss. 

I don’t know, because everything else has faded. 


	12. So This is the New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate and the crew finally come to consciousness after the New Years festivities the night before, but one of their own goes down in a much more serious way than they expect. Crockett comes to his rescue, but the overwhelming Dad instinct (and sheer amount of bourbon in his bloodstream) threaten to take him down too. Only Kelley and Raz's blossoming relationship and Kate's gallows humor is enough to get them through the morning.

_ I don’t feel any different _

**January 1, 2020** **  
** **1013 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
****Kate**

I am in excruciating pain. Throbbing pain. All over my body. What the fuck even happened? Oh, God. I haven’t blacked out since college. This is ridiculous. Nope, don’t puke. Where are you, Kate? Where the fuck—

I realize I’m not just sleeping with one person, but I’m flanked. I try to focus, and I see Greg, asleep, curled up to me like a big spoon. Who am I spooning, though?

I pop up. Ooo, boy. Too much. Maybe should lay down. Wait.

“‘Kett?” I say, my voice hoarse. “Good Lord, did we have a threesome and I didn’t remember? No, no, no…” I check, but all my clothes are still on. Wyew. Good. Saved.

Crockett shifts, and he blinks. "Kate? What the hell, why am I in a bed with you?" 

He inches backward, wide-eyed.

“And Mouse,” I say, trying to ward off the nausea. Greg pops up, nearly on cue, his hair going every which way. 

“Hey, dude.”

Crockett sits bolt upright, and topples off the bed.

“‘Kett, noooo,” Greg says in the quietest voice possible. Instead of looking for him, he just turns over and tries to go back to sleep. 

I try to crawl off the bed, but I just end up in a pile on the floor with ‘Kett, my head spinning. Wait, something feels wrong. I reach into my bra and pull out a stack of twenties. 

“Crockett, what the fuck did we do?” I grumble. 

"I don't know," he says quietly. "But my head is about ready to end me." His eyes are closed, and his hand is on his pulse point.

“Do not puke, do not puke,” I whisper to myself. “No. Kate, you’re better than this. You do not puke. Get a hold of yourself.”

There’s stirring from outside the door, and a loud thunk, and then what I think is Will’s voice going “ow”.

Crockett hauls himself up with a whimper, hanging onto the side of the bed, eyes closed.

"Everyone… okay?" 

“Call out,” I hear Kelley’s voice, sleepily. “Marcks!”

“Halstead,” Jay barely says, muffled. 

“Halstead!” Will says with a groan.

“Uh, Rasmussen?”

“Gerwitz and Gerwitz, wait, Tommy? When did you—” I start. 

“Marcel,” he mutters. I pull myself to the door, using it as a crutch to view the catastrophe beyond.

Kelley is hanging onto Raz, who's hand is suspiciously entwined with hers. Hmm.

Crockett is trying to stand up behind me. 

"I'm too old for this," he mutters, eyes closed. "Kate, help me."

I run—more like stumble—to his aid, pulling him up to his feet and slipping his arm over my shoulder. 

“‘Kett needs help,” Greg mutters into his pillow.

"Shut up, Greg," he groans, hanging onto me. "I can't keep doing this, going dry then a bender. Need ta sit…"

I’m not sure who carries who into the great room. Jay perks up from one of the armchairs. Will looks woefully at his foot as he sits on one of the barstools.

“Happy New Year, everybody,” Raz says with a grin. 

Crockett melts onto the couch, and Kelley snorts. 

She gets up to make her way to me. "How you feeling?" 

I get another wave. I close my eyes, hold the bridge of my nose. “Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.”

She holds me steady, rubbing my back. "You're okay," she reassures, but there's amusement in her voice.

“I can’t puke,” I whine. “I haven’t puked from drinking since… since...”

"You're okay, Kate, I've got you," she's giggling now, the little shit.

“Dude, you drank a lot of whiskey,” Will says, grumbling. 

“Couldn’t have been worse than the tequila,” Jay mutters, finally pulling himself from the floor. 

“Everyone stop talking about alcohol,” I say, doing deep breathing. “Someone check on my husband!”

Crockett raises a hand from where he's curled on the couch. 

"I would if I could stand up," he murmurs, eyes closed. 

Raz rolls his eyes. "I'll go."

Crockett just flashes a thumbs up as he screws his eyes shut tighter. With a spring in his step, Raz heads to the bedroom. I clasp my hands in front of my face and try to breathe. 

“I need ice water, and tylenol, and Kelley, I need to steal some clothes for a shower, and then I will be fine to cook breakfast, if y’all have the supplies.”

The thought of food makes me even more nauseated.Kelley giggles, pulling a water bottle from the fridge and the tylenol bottle and tossing it to me.I sink down onto the other bar stool. Do not puke, do not puke.

“Hey you really haven’t puked since—"

“Stop talking about it,” I deadpan. 

“Wasn’t that…”

“Orange gatorade and tequila,” Jay mutters.

Kelley perks up. 

"Hmm…" she eyes me. 

Crockett groans. "Would y'all stop with the chatter about booze, okay? Hangover from hell." 

He hauls himself off the couch, and faceplants on the floor.

“‘Kett, what did we even _ do _last night? I remember… picking that asshole’s pocket, singing…. Barton Hollow? And then that’s it.”

Will starts laughing. “What? You missed the best part!”

Kelley starts giggling, and she points at Will. "You say it.. I can't-" she's hanging onto the counter laughing.

Crockett just lays still on the floor. Greg wanders out, looking just.. tired, not necessarily, hungover. I hate him for it. Raz, as he breezes by me, hands me my phone and plays the video.

“Oh. Oh my God. Oh. What. Holy. What?!”

Kelley is laughing hard enough she's squeaking. "Like it?" She's giddy.

I watch as my husband fucking… he… “You… you can rap? I… I’ve known you almost four years, and you… you can rap?”

Greg just chuckles to himself.

Kelley launches herself into a hug as she wraps her arms around Greg. "Man of many many talents! How much did everybody actually drink?"

“I think I had an entire bottle of Jameson,” I mutter, rewinding the video again. “Maybe one and a half.”

She nods. "Will? How much?"

He waves his hand back and forth. “I think the other half of Kate’s bottle.”

Jay rubs his hands over his face. “I think Kate had more than one and a half, because I think I had half of her bottle and half of Will’s.”

"Okay," she mutters. "Mouse? How much did thouest imbibe?"

“The general amount,” he says. “I’m more tired from holding up my extremely drunk wife than anything.”

I smile at him, scrunching up my face at him. “I’m not sorry.”

He blows me a kiss. Jay nearly mimes throwing up, but then changes his mind.

“Wait, shit, gotta go,” Jay says.

Kelley taps me on the shoulder. “Kelley, I cannot move to face you right now, because if I move too fast, my brain will explode. Come to me, please.”

She shrugs, then vaults the couch to sit beside me. "Here's a problem," she almost giggles. 

"Kate, he'll answer to you or Mouse, but not me," she says, pointing to the surgeon currently flat on the floor. "He's probably sore as hell."

“C’mon, brother,” Greg mutters, pulling Crockett to his feet. Well, kind of. In fact, Greg more or less picks him off his feet to take him to the couch. Will watches, impressed. I just snort. Oh. Ow. Not okay. 

"Greg, you're an angel," Crockett whispers as he slowly tries to sit up, hands covering his eyes. "Hell, fuck that. Where's Jay?"

As if on cue, I hear retching from the bathroom. I gag a little in response. Greg presses his hands to his ears and starts singing the chorus of _ Lady Marmalade _ loud enough to not hear it. 

Crockett is up off the couch, shaky, but upright. 

As he starts moving towards the bathroom, he's muttering to himself. "Who the hell let Jay drink?" He pauses, then repeats the question to us. "Boy's gone through enough, Jay, hang on bud!"

“Dad friend override,” I harrumph in Kelley’s direction. 

She grins. "That's the best. He's had some benders, and I usually have to fake choking or some shit to override the hangover depression, at least for a few minutes." She shrugs. "It's a dick move, but it works."

“Nah, been there,” I say, pointing at the still singing Greg. “Can I at least steal some of your clothes? Anybody want breakfast?”

Will just nods emphatically. 

“I can help?” Raz suggests. I clap my hand on his shoulder. 

“You’re a good bean.”

Kelley hums. 

"You won't be able to fit most of my clothes, hang on." She disappears for a second, coming back with sweatpants, a tshirt and a large hoodie. "You won't fit mine, but Crockett won't mind if you borrow these." She tosses them to me. 

“Oh, thank God,” I mutter, circumventing the two men in the bathroom, finally getting out of my gross bar clothes, and heading back into the kitchen.

I reach my hand towards Greg, and he pulls a hair tie from his wrist. “Okay. Okay. Oof. Breakfast. Kelley? Gimme options.”

She wrenches open the cupboard and fridge. 

Crockett's head pokes out from the bathroom as he gently half-carries Jay to the couch.

"I have everything," he says. "I got groceries on the 30th."

“Alright, what do y’all want? Cavanagh Spread? A fuckton of pancakes?”

Crockett smooths back Jay's hair once before getting up, leaning on the kitchen island. "Kate, if you start the Spread, I can get hush puppies rollin'."

“You got it, CJ.” I stop. “Wait, was that a thing last night? I feel like there were a lot of names flying around.”

He scowls at 'CJ', perking up then. "Something like that, 'Shannon.'"

Parts flood back. “Oh. Oh God. ‘Ronan’. What the fuck. Mouse, what do you know?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he mutters. “Wait, about what?”

Crockett dumps his head in his hands. "Oh no…" he mutters. "Why was I 'Ronan' and her 'Shannon'? What happened that she found a hell of a lot of money in somewhere money would normally not be?"

“I don’t know!” Greg exclaims. “I don’t question her, usually!”

“The McCafferty Special,” Will says. I just “ohhhh” in recognition, then go grab the stack of bills from my clothes. When I come back, I give half to Crockett and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

"Merci, cher," he smiles tiredly. "Sorry for hittin' on you last night. And dragging you into that damn stupid plan o' mine."

Will just snorts. “You… you think that was _ your _ plan? Her mom used to do that! Where do you think she got the idea?! Where do you think the name ‘Shannon McCafferty’ came from?!”

Crockett grins. He kisses my cheek. 

"Now that's what I call badass, darlin'. Gotta say, from what I remember, you had that dumbass on a leash by the end of it. I just distracted him long enough for you to make the kill."

I wink. “Nah_ , a stór, _ you sealed the deal. I just….. sweetened the pot, so to speak. And robbed him blind.” I start making breakfast, trying to ignore the whiskey still roiling in my bloodstream. Jay groans from the couch. 

“Kate, I swear. If you rob anyone else, I’m calling Voight.” 

“No, you won’t!” I add in a singsong voice. “You want twenty dollars?”

“Bribing an officer of the law.”

“..... forty?”

Crockett leaves the bowl he's manhandling, and wets a dishcloth. 

He makes his way to the couch and lays it over Jay's eyes. 

"How you doing, Jay, my boy?" 

Jay just moans. I think he’s milking it for the attention. Will just comes over and starts another pot of coffee. 

“What can I do?” Raz says joyfully. He bounces against Kelley and she grins. 

“Yeah, you can help. What’s this?” I say, gesturing between the two of them.

Kelley snorts, and takes a step away. She gestures with her hands to the space between them. "This, Kate, is one Bible width apart. So we remain pure. Just like Catholic school taught me." She winks at Raz, and I can't believe these two.

“Can you please tell me what the _fuck_ happened last night?!” I say, and without looking, I hand Raz the pancake batter. He immediately starts stirring as I glare at Kelley. 

She smirks at me and gently kisses the back of Raz's neck. I might explode. 

Kelley jumps up on the counter to keep grinning at me.

“Did she get her hooks in you, babe? What has she done?” I pinch Raz’s cheek and he just grins. “Oh my God. You’re smitten! Dammit, Raz!”

Raz looks to Kelley and it’s like he’s not even listening to me. Good lord, the adorable idiot. 

Crockett comes back, and Kelley sends a look to Raz and scoots about half a foot away. Raz just smiles at her.

"Where did the bottle of ibuprofen go?" Crockett mutters, moving around me.

“I will tattle on you to CJ.” I wield my spoon like a knife, underhanded, so she knows I mean business.

"Tattle to me about what?" Crockett hums as he keeps looking. "Something I need to know?" 

Kelley waves frantically to me, making a slashing motion. "Nothing, 'Kett," she says. "Just that I… I forgot to make coffee yet."

He blinks at her, unimpressed, then looks at me. "Let me help Jay for a sec, and then Kate is tattling to me."

I squint my eyes at her. Fine. I’ll wait. I am patient. I gesture for the pancake batter from Raz. I don’t look away from Kelley as I give instructions.

“Raz, sweetie, check the breakfast meats?”

“Yeah, sure, Tilly!”

Kelley watches Raz, and she looks sappy. 

I can hear Crockett and Jay talking quietly before Crockett calls for Will. 

Kelley's hand is scratching gently through Raz's hair. 

“You hurt this boy….” I start, but then I address the both of them. “This better be something real. Don’t just be fuckin’ around, okay? My heart can’t take it.”

Raz looks up to me. “Oh, it’s real!” 

“Oh,” I say. “Oh. Oh, okay, wow. Good. Fuck yeah. Fuck yes! Raz, you’ve always been my favorite.”

“I just start fights so you can finish them,” he says, chewing after stealing a piece of bacon. 

Kelley smiles at him. 

Crockett clears his throat. "Kelley, I need your help for a sec, okay?" 

She slips off the counter, and Raz pauses enough to look up. 

Kelley moves over to where Will and Crockett are huddled. 

"Kate," Crockett calls over his shoulder. "Can you grab the med kit from the top left cupboard? I'd like to keep this off books."

I turn down all the food to warm and nearly vault myself high enough to get to the top cupboard. Once I retrieve the med kit, I bring it back to ‘Kett. 

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” I ask, approaching. 

Crockett's quietly giving Jay hell, and Kelley takes the med kit. 

"Moron skipped the last damn appointment, didn't tell me that he popped a couple stitches," Crockett almost growls. 

“Hey, I’m fine,” Jay grumbles, but he doesn’t look fine. He doesn’t seem fine at all. 

"Yeah, fine, my ass," Crockett snarks back. "That's why you're in a cold sweat. Why the _ hell _were you drinking last night? When was the last time you took the Tramadol? I'm just sorry I was too wasted to figure that out."

“What can I do?” I say, gesturing for Raz to check on the food. He nods once. What a good kid. 

Greg steps back, and I see the little bit of horror in his face. The panic sets in, and it nearly sobers me. 

Nearly.

Kelley confers with Crockett almost silently, and the two raise Jay to a half sitting position. Kelley slips behind him so he's leaning on her. 

She meets my eyes, then looks to Greg. She's slipped into first responder mode. 

"Will, I need light," Crockett mutters. Will immediately pulls up the flashlight on his phone and shines it on his brother.

Greg just looks more and more worried. 

Crockett looks up, and he's chewing his lip. He looks to Greg, then me. 

"Mouse," he calls lowly. "I need a washcloth, wet it with the hot water tap. Needs to be pretty hot, alright, man?" 

He taps his fingers against his arm until Crockett’s voice wakes him up. “Yeah. Yeah, on it,” he says, breaking from his reverie and heading towards the sink.

"Will, more light. Kate?" He asks, slipping on a fresh glove. I look for my phone… counter. On the counter. I head for it and turn on the flashlight. As soon as I turn it on, the light sets off my migraine. No, stop. Not this early in the year. Not yet. 

Crockett looks up sharply. "I need that light," he says tersely, but he's looking at me. 

"You okay?" His look asks. 

“Fine,” I breathe, holding my phone as steadily as possible. My hand still shakes. At least, until Greg comes back and offers Crockett the rag. 

He takes it and nods to me. 

"Jay," he says quietly. "I'm gonna put this on the spot, alright? It's hot as hell, but I won't let it burn you."

“Just do it, my fault anyway,” Jay grumbles. 

"Hey man, stop that," Crockett says, looking him in the eye. "I nag you, but only 'cause I want to be sure you're okay."

I try not to shake, but the fact of the matter is, I can’t make it stop. As I watch over Crockett, the piercing pain in my head gets worse. I have to ward off the nausea. Before I realize it, Greg slips my phone from my hand and I slip down onto the floor. 

"Tommy," Kelley calls, nodding toward Greg and I. He retrieves the two of us, pulls us away, just far enough out of dodge. Raz takes my phone and ultimately takes over. 

I try to focus, but my head just pounds. I don’t know what caused it this time. 

“Babe, you good?” Greg mutters, but I shake my head. Between the headache, and the hangover, and Jay, I‘m running to the bathroom before I know what I’m doing.

God _ dammit. _

* * *

**Crockett**

As I hold the steaming cloth to the wound, I'm watching Jay's face carefully. 

"Hey man, talk to me. What you feelin'?"

“Like hell, what do you think, Marcel?” He grumbles. 

"I'm just tryin' to get a sense of the situation, Halstead, so don't you even start with me." 

I'm focused, but I'm concerned. 

I pull open the kit, and I pull out the suture kit and the antiseptic. 

The moment I pull out the lidocaine though, I glance to Will. "Not a fuckin' word, man."

Will nods once. “We did a lot of shit last night. If you don’t, I won’t.”

I nod, and I ready the syringe. "Jay, just gonna numb the area, okay?" I don't want to knock him out, so this will have to do. I need to keep an eye on his level of consciousness. 

I give it a moment to take effect, and Kelley is smoothing back Jay's hair from his face, and she gives me a small, scared smile when I look at her. 

I'm pulling open the antiseptic and I clean the area as much as I can.

"Jay," I call lowly. He takes a deep, low breath, and I can tell the night has gotten to him. Or the wound. Could be either. Could be both. He squeezes his eyes shut, and then opens them wide again.

“Crockett.”

Good. 

"Jay, I need an answer here, buddy. I need to know when your last dose of Tramadol was. I need to know." 

“I don’t know,” Jay mutters. “Around noon yesterday?”

"Halstead!" I glare at him, but I feel more fear and concern than anger. "Why the fuck were you drinkin'?"

“Uh, New Years?” He tries. “Irish? I don’t know, it’s Kate’s fault.”

I can hear her retching from the other room. She’s next on my list.

I grit my teeth. My eyes are burning, but I shake my head. I need to focus. 

"Kelley, grab his free hand." 

I've threaded the suture needle before I know I've done it. 

"Jay," I say softly. "When you're on the mend, I'm gonna yell at you." 

I start stitching, and I'm done within a few minutes. "Okay Will, I need the gauze and shit."

I take a moment to try and evaluate Jay. He's pale and sweating, and I'm not liking this. 

"What are you feeling? Try and be specific."

“Uh, typical hangover symptoms, I guess?” he groans. “Kinda want to puke still. Stomach hurts. Headache. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that, Will?”

Will looks to me worriedly.

I slip my hand to Jay's wrist, watching my watch. "Will, he's tachycardic. Jay, do you know how much you drank?" I don't want to panic, but I'm definitely worried.

“I dunno,” he says, increasingly agitated. “Half a bottle? A whole bottle? I wasn’t keepin’ track, man!” 

"Think harder," I hiss. I slip an arm under him, letting Kelley slip out, and I settle him flat on the couch. 

I hear Mouse’s voice from the bathroom. “Three quarters of a bottle!” 

"Thanks, Greg," I call back. "Kelley, go update them. You know what's going on." She works alongside the ED and Psychology, I know she knows. 

She nods and heads off to the bathroom. 

"Jay, kid," I murmur. "Gotta breathe, man. Take a breath."

He’s trying, but he cringes, holding a fist to his forehead. “Man, you gotta tell me what’s goin’ on. Did I fuck all this up?”

"Hey, hey now," I say softly, and I need to breathe, myself. I take Jay's hand and move it to my chest. "Breathe with me, Jay, c'mon. I'll tell you, but I need you to breathe first. C'mon. Match my breaths."

He struggles for a minute, but eventually, he gets to where he needs to be. Lord, how did we get to this point? We’re barely twelve hours into the new year and I’m already fixing up one of my own. 

"There ya go, bud," I whisper, and I shoot an anxious glance to Will. 

"Okay, Jay," I say, and I'm brushing the back of my hand over his face. He's too warm for my liking.

"Jay, I think your Tramadol interacted with the alcohol. It was whiskey, right?"

“Yes, it was,” Kate weakly calls. “So much Jameson. Is Jay okay?!”

"I've got him, Kate," I call back. Not what she asked, but it's the answer she's getting. 

"Will, I need to go check on her too. I'll be five minutes, okay? Just monitor him?" 

I know he knows what to do, he's an ED doctor for fuck's sake, but I feel just a little less anxious saying it.

“I’m on it,” Will says, snapping his fingers at Raz.

I step away with a final half-smile at Jay. 

I get to the hall door, and I have to pause. Dizzy as hell, I know I drank way too much and I should at least drink water, but I'll deal with that when I come to it. Jay and Kate are my priority. 

I slip into the small bathroom, and Kelley steps back. She squeezes my shoulder. "Go stay with Will, see if they need anything," I say lowly. She nods and then she's gone.

I kneel down beside Kate and Mouse. "Hey, darlin', what's the issue?" 

Mouse just holds her hair back as she pukes again. When she leans back against the shower glass, she wipes her mouth. She looks paler than usual.

“My body is rejecting my choices from last night.”

I can't do another alcohol poisoning. They're my friends. Oh God, help me. 

"Hey," I say, reaching forward. I smooth back her hair, and I'm worried. I'm very fuckin' worried.

"Kate, talk to me," I say, looking at her and Mouse. "What are you feelin'?"

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m fine,” she says. “I’m tired, I’m hungry, I think. I’m sick of puking. I didn’t even have tequila,” she whines. 

I've been watching her. "How's your head?"

“Pounding, but I don’t think that was from the hangover,” she whispers. She does the same thing that Jay does, squinting and holding a fist to her head. God, they’ve known each other too long. 

Mouse catches my eye. He just nods at me once. I know what it means: she’ll be fine. I don’t know if he can give a real diagnosis, but he has known her longer than I have.

Still.

My hand goes to her wrist, and her pulse is normal enough. 

When I finish, I check her eyes. And then I pull her into my arms gently, my hand rubbing her back. "Hey," I whisper. She just melts, and Mouse gives me a smirk, then makes a gesture like _ keep talking to her _ as he sneaks out of the bathroom.

I rock her gently, smoothing her hair. "Kate, darlin', I know that face. That face says 'headache from hell.'" 

“‘S been worse,” she mutters. “That pneumonia scare. That was worse. Crockett, real talk: I don’t drink that much anymore. I dunno what happened. I just went crazy. I’m sorry I ruined New Years.”

I shake my head. "No, cher, no, you didn't. Not your fault, not even close. I should've picked up on Jay drinkin' last night, should've asked him sooner about the stitches." My chin rests gently on top of her head as I rub her back. "I do wish I could've cut you off after a while. I shoulda been a bit more responsible than I was."

“Will was feedin’ me water,” she says. “It should’ve worked but I guess I’m gettin’ older, yeah?”

I shrug. I don't have an answer. 

My hands take one of hers, and I gently dig my thumb into one of the pressure points. Maybe this might help a bit.

“Woah, man, Vulcan nerve pinch, huh?” She mutters.

I keep the pressure, chuckling softly. "Eases tension a bit. Supposed to help with headaches. Blame Kelley. She started doing it when she found out about my migraines. Sounds crazy as all hell, but it works." I switch to her other hand.

“Don’t stop talkin’, ‘Kett. Damn, that accent gets me every time.”

I chuckle, and I rub her back again. 

"Katie Kat, what are you feelin', right now?"

“Sleepy,” she mutters. “I think I’m done puking. How’s Jay? Did I try to get you to have a threesome with Mouse and I?”

"One question at a time, honey," I say, smoothing back her hair and braiding it back with one of Kelley's elastics. "You did proposition me, but it was under significant influence, so I disregard it. You think you can stand up if I help you?"

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, and we start to get upright. She’s shaking her head at me as we go. “No, I’m… I’m fairly certain. I think Mouse did, too. He was fairly sober, too. Jesus, are you Mouse’s gay thing?!”

I roll my eyes. "Kate, not now. This is not the conversation I'm okay with having right now." I steady her.

“I’m not done with you,” she responds, blowing some of her hair out of her face. “How is Jay? He okay?”

I think my face shows enough. "It's not good, Katie Kat."

“Should we call it in?” She says, grasping onto me a little too tightly. 

I lean against the wall, I have to. My head is swimming. 

No. I can't do this. Not right now. I can't. 

I need to… to focus. 

What did she say? 

"Not- not yet-" I think I say, "Maybe."

“‘Kett, you good? What should I do?”

I grit my teeth. Not doing this right now. 

I need to check on Jay. 

"Will's with Jay," Kate says, and I wonder if I'm actually thinking out loud. 

“I have to go check on him,” she says, nearly slamming into the door frame trying to get out of the bathroom. 

I try to follow her, but I have to go slow. When I get out there, I try to catch Will's eye as I grip the back of the armchair. I just watch Kate sink to the floor next to Jay. Tommy leans on the back of the couch, just watching Kelley as she monitors Jay even closer than his brother is. Mouse leans down next to Kate and kisses her on the forehead.

Damn. Even through the dizziness, I smile. Just a touch. 

I move forward, inching closer to Jay. "Hey man, how you doin'?" I ask softly as I reach for his pulse.

“Could use a little space, but I’m doin’ okay, I think,” he says, squinting mostly at Kelley and Kate. 

I hide a smile, and I look to Will. "How's he doin'?" I ask him next, hand still on Jay's pulse point.

“Stabilizing,” Will says, crossing his arms and nodding once at me. I know he’s worried, and rightfully so, but that was a scare that we shouldn’t have had to have.

I wish I'd seen it sooner.

"Still a bit tachy, but better," I say, letting go of Jay's wrist and slowly stepping back to stand beside Will. My hand clasps his shoulder gently. "You okay?" I ask in a whisper.

He chuckles. “What’s a major holiday without some sort of near catastrophe?”

I force a smile. 

I glance back to Jay, and I can breathe a bit easier knowing he's leveling out. 

Kate turns to Kelley. “You think you can finish up breakfast? Take… take Tommy. We should all eat something.”

I watch Kelley take the kid's hand and pull him into the kitchen. 

I know what I see, but I'm too damn worried and exhausted and dizzy to even think about that right now. 

I try and visually assess Jay again from where I stand.

“He’s gonna be fine, Crockett,” Will says, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll bounce back. He’s got you.” 

"Shoulda seen it," I mutter under my breath. I reach up and grab Will's hand to try and steady myself as I keep trying to do the assessment from a distance. 

“Hey, man, you okay?” Will leads me down into the nearest armchair. “You should get some water. You and Kate both hit it a little hard.”

I need to keep an eye on Jay, but I can't help the wave of dizziness as I sit down. I close my eyes, trying to will it away. The stress of the last few hours is not helping.

But then there’s a glass of water in my hand. Will watches over me. Kelley and Tommy, they’re starting to giggle in the kitchen. Kate and Mouse watch over Jay. 

I still need to watch over Jay. But it’s still nice to know someone is watching over me, too.

I relax into the chair and I nod. 

I think we might get through this. 

Take it to the other side, y'all. 

Kate perks up. “Hey guys! At least the only way we can go is up!”

I touch a hand to my throbbing forehead.


	13. When the Smoke Clears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate visits Crockett at the ED, and she gets a little more than she bargained for. But Crockett starts to see a few cracks in her armor, and starts to grow wary, even after she claims to have met "Mrs. Crockett".

_ You and I Against The World _ _  
_ **January 4, 2020** **  
** **1822 Hours** **  
** **Chicago Gaffney Medical Center** **  
** **Kate**

I wander into Gaffney with my bag of food in tow. With Greg out with Jay, doing… whatever those two do, and Kelley on a double shift, and no classes, I’m left alone for the weekend, and Crockett is my go-to for any sort of companionship. 

When I get into the emergency department, and I see Maggie’s flustered face, I’m not sure what to expect. 

"Kate? Hey! Everything okay?"

Her flustery nature shifts to that Mom Instinct when I come in. I don’t always see Maggie, and most of the time, it’s when I’m struggling, so it’s fair. Her reaction is fair. I smile and hold up the bag.

“Crockett busy? We were supposed to meet up, and then he got busy, so I brought a to go bag.”

She smiles. "Good. I'm glad." 

She looks around, and then nods. "He's just in Treatment Two, should be done in a few minutes."

I gesture like I’m heading for the break room, and that’s fine. He’s probably going to end up being a while, but that’s normal. And I’ve got food for Will, too, but I haven’t seen that dumbass anywhere.

Something buzzes behind me, and Maggie's voice raises. "Alright, Crockett, Ethan, you two free? Incoming."

I don’t have time to make it to the break room, so I slip out of the way, stepping back into the nurse’s station like I own the place.

Crockett steps out of the curtained off room, snapping off his gloves and flicking them into the trash. 

"Whatcha got for me, Mags?"

"Agitated female, self-inflicted stab wounds to arms and torso, paramedics stopped majority of the bleeding en route but she fought them. Stop of them need sutures, and her husband is on the way. Be careful, they're frequent fliers."

Choi steps past Crockett, and snorts. 

"Third time this month. Marcel, look alive."

The door opens, and the gurney rolls in. 

Crockett and Choi are there within a heartbeat, and they're flinging medical talk between them fast enough I can't keep up. 

"Hanna?" A guy yells, trying to force his way into the bay. "Hanna, are you okay? What's wrong with her?" 

The two doctors share one glance, and Crockett focuses on the suture kit in his hands as Choi steps forward. "Hey, Marcus. We've got your wife," he says soothingly, but Marcus doesn't seem to care. 

In his haste, he shoves Ethan again. 

Damn, I know they’ve been through some shit together, but this is some brothers in the heat of battle shit. I’m entranced, watching them do their work. 

“Maggie, tell me if I’m in the way,” I say, making myself smaller. 

"You're always in my way," she says fondly, but her eyes are on the situation unfolding.

Ethan gently walks Marcus backward before turning to look at Crockett. 

"What do you need, Marcel?" 

Crockett just shakes his head in response, then looks up to Maggie. 

"I've seen up most of them but plastics need to do the rest, Mags, can you give them a call?"

I’ve had enough experience at this point in my life to know when a situation is about to go down. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. I can feel the shiver.

I desperately want to warn him, but I don’t even know what to warn him about, besides a old soldier’s paranoid instinct.

Within seconds I have my answer as Marcus grabs Choi's head and slams it into the wall. 

Crockett tosses the empty suture kit and says something to the nurses around him. 

They're transporting the bed out within a moment, and Crockett comes out of the room just in time to see Marcus pull a knife. 

Out of instinct, I step in front of Maggie, pushing her back into the nurse’s station and blocking the entrance.

"Marcus, c'mon man, not again," Crockett says lowly.

I don’t know what expression my face makes, but I imagine its similar to that ‘white guy blinking’ gif that keeps going around. I’m fairly certain I blue screen for a second. 

Seriously? Not again? 

I need to get Crockett back into the ring, if he’s going to be dealing with this shit on the reg.

Crockett steps forward slowly, hands visible. 

"Listen, man, she's going to be fine. Just need Plastics to finish up the stitching so there's no scar. I need my partner back, c'mon man."

Marcus takes a step back, the knife still at Ethan's neck. 

This bothers me. 

With one fluid motion, Crockett reaches down and unhooks his pager. "KitKat, Mags, heads up." He tosses it our direction, holding up four fingers. I pluck the pager overhanded out of the air and hand it to Maggie. 

I drop into fight or flight stance. 

"Four," Crockett mutters, and Maggie nods. She thumbs through the pager until she reaches the fourth on-call. 

_ #4. Psych. Charles. _

"Listen, man, that's my partner you've got there. I gotta have his help here," he says calmly, but he's seeing something. 

He flicks his eyes to me and nods to him. 

"Distract," he mouths.

Now that I can handle. I slip out of the nurse’s station, and Marcus’s attention goes to me. 

“Hey, man. You don’t need to do this. They’re gonna help, alright? And they can’t help if you’ve got one hand tied behind their backs, alright?”

Choi meets my eye, and he nods. 

Crockett's coming up behind him slowly, and he looks to me once more. I don’t look at him. I just see him out of my periphery. I take another step towards Marcus, holding my hands up in surrender.

That’s funny. Like I ever would surrender.

Crockett's suddenly on Marcus's back and Choi drops to the floor, rolling out of the way. 

Crockett and Marcus crash into the wall. Well, maybe he doesn’t need more training after all. 

“Mags, you good?” I say quickly, and she nods before I skid to a stop in front of Ethan.

“You good, Ethan?”

He nods, and Dr. Charles is suddenly behind me. 

"Seriously? Kate?"

Crockett pops up, and he's pinning Marcus' hands behind his back.

"Hey, Dr. Charles," he says breathlessly. "Need a psych consult."

“Dr. Charles!” I say gleefully, helping Ethan to his feet. “Long time, no see.”

He looks from me, to Ethan, to Crockett, and back to me and just sighs.

"Why is it that when something happens it's always at least you three?" 

Crockett shrugs, marching Marcus into Treatment 3, and Dr. Charles sighs, following. 

Within seconds, Crockett's back out. 

"You good, man?" He asks, hand on Ethan's shoulder. 

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I’m fine, I’m fine,” I mutter, looking to Maggie. 

"Shush, grasshopper, I'm getting to you," Crockett says, pointing at me. "Mind if I check on my coworker who had an actual, y'know, knife to the carotid?" 

Ethan's chuckling. I just flip Crockett off.

He shakes his head. "Nice to know how much you love me," he mutters, and he and Ethan share a look. 

"If you're sure, man," he says after a moment, and Ethan nods. 

Crockett leans forward, giving him a half-hug. 

"At least check in with Charles when he's done, Choi," he murmurs. 

Ethan grins and then hugs me. "Good to see you, kid."

I hug him for a bit longer than normal. “We gotta stop meeting like this, Choi.”

He chuckles. "Chaos never stops, Kate. You know that." 

He gives me a half salute as he walks away backward. 

Crockett watches him go, then turns to me as Maggie hands him his pager.

"Hey, there."

“You’re gettin’ damn good at that shit, you know?” I mime bobbing and weaving. “You know, butterfly, bee, shit.”

He snorts. 

"I just do what I need to do, darlin', you know that." He wraps an arm around my shoulders. I hug him tightly. I don’t let go for a while, and I can feel my heart beating nearly out of my chest.

He holds me tight, still in the middle of the ED. He seems to realize that, and maneuvers me around the nursing station to the staff room. 

I gesture out there once more. “Oh, uh, food, I brought food, left it out on the desk.” God, what the fuck is happening? I try to shake out my hands, but they’re still quaking a little.

Oh, c’mon, Kate. You’re better than this.

He gives me a look, but he retrieves the bag, setting it on the table. 

He takes my hands and pulls me onto the couch. 

"Kate…" he says lowly, watching me.

I shake the static from my head. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Hey, we should eat before it gets… well, colder.”

He nods, still eyeing me. "Sorry to get you involved."

“Ha! You know me, I’m gonna get involved in it whether you want me to or not.” My voice comes out weaker than I had hoped, but I hope he doesn’t notice. Knowing him, he probably will. 

"After last time's fiasco, I was wary of rushin' at him with the knife in his hand, so you there helped a lot," he says as he watches me closely, his hand gently wrapping around my wrist. 

I almost try to pull away, but it’s a reflex, not what I really want. At least, that’s what I think. I clear my throat. “Good. I’m glad I could help. I would have rather been the one tacklin’ the asshole, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

He shakes his head, and he's watching me. "You're almost hyperventilatin'," he warns me.

“What? No. I’m fine. I’m fine, Crockett.” I try to slow my breathing, and I realize he’s right. When did that happen?

He frowns. 

"Hey, focus on me, Kate. Focus on your breaths."

I follow him, I match his breaths, and the static gives way to tinnitus, to just breathing. Just breathing. We’re fine. He’s fine. Everyone is fine. 

"There you go," he says, a smile blossoming over his face as he leans his head against mine.

“When you get worried, your accent comes out a little more,” I mutter. “It’s comforting. Can we please, for the love of God, eat now?”

He chuckles. "Hell yeah, please. I've been going since eleven and I didn't eat this morning. You're a godsend, darlin'."

I gesture for the bag and start pulling out food from that cajun place we went to a couple months ago. “I’ve been hungry for this for weeks, and I can actually be around it with Greg gone,” I grumble. 

He laughs. "Yeah I'd like to not kill my brother, your husband."

“But it’s so damn good, ‘Kett. I need it. You’re the only one who I can share this with, alright?”

He smiles and blows me a kiss. 

"That's a'right with me, KitKat." He opens a container and sighs happily. "Yes. You know me well."

“Someone’s gotta make sure you eat,” I say. “Might as well be me.”

He snorts. "Between you and Kelley, you've got a handle on that." 

He's tearing through the food, and I smile.

“That was, admittedly, pretty badass what you did out there.” 

He shrugs, but his face darkens a little. "Happens a bit too much for my liking. At least no one got hurt this time. Thanks to you," he smiles, just a bit forced, as he points his fork at me.

“You need a part time ED bouncer? I mean, I know you got security, but I can wear all black and sunglasses inside, looking angry. Like a club that only the cool people can get into.”

His smile drops instantly. "No. Not on my watch," he says sharply.

I pause. “Sorry. Struck a chord. Still not always get when it’s time to make a joke or not. Maybe Mouse is rubbing off on me.”

"It's not your fault," he shrugs. "We've just had an uptick in crime around Gaffney again. One of our security team was stabbed in the waiting room last week. I refuse to have you in that situation." He stares at the wall, and he's getting close to getting lost in his head.

“It ain’t up to you, Crockett,” I say. “You know me well enough by now to realize we’re similar. We’re the same person. If I’ve got the ability to put myself between someone with a knife and someone who can’t protect themselves, I’m gonna do it. And I’m gonna kick some ass while I do. You can’t stop me. It’s in my blood.”

He nods. "Doesn't mean I always like it. I just want you safe. You keep finding trouble." He pauses to give me a mock-glare.

“_ You _ keep findin’ trouble!” I snark. “In a hospital, no less! Stop getting yourself into shit. I’m gonna have to dig you back out. Trust me, I will. Don’t think I won’t. I got two hands that should be registered weapons, Marcel.”

He shakes his head. "You're crazy, darlin'. Chill."

“I have zero chill. You know that. Besides, I gotta know, was that move you pulled back there muy thai, or karate, or back alley N’awlins brawlin’?” 

He shrugs with half a smile. "That's all Big Easy right there. Came in handy a few times."

“I swear, one of these days, we’re gonna fight, you and I. And it’s gonna be glorious.”

He says nothing, just keeps eating. 

* * *

_We Ride the Highs And Lows_

**January 8, 2020** **  
** **1912 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Crockett **

I'm messing with the frying pan, and I drain my coffee for the second time. 

"Crockett, she's on the way up," Kelley calls from the door, and I smile. 

"Yeah well, there's food ready for her," I say as I move things to the table.

There is a mess of pounding on the door, loud, insistent. It could only be Kate.

“Hey! Hey, let me in! Dude! Crockett! I have news!”

There's a pan in my hands and so I nod to the door. Kelley heads that way, muttering "Sure, only mention him, I'm here too," before she giggles. 

I focus on my task. At least, until Kate bursts into the apartment, nearly out of breath, her hands on her knees as she gasps, fluttering papers from her hand. 

“Crockett… Crockett, I’ve met her… I’ve found her!”

I put down the pitcher in my hands, and my hand goes to her back. 

I have no damned idea what she's on about. 

"Are you okay?" I ask, trying to figure out what's going on. 

“She’s perfect!” Kate says, apparently regaining her breath. “Crockett, she’s… she’s got a Ph D, she’s gorgeous, she’s… she’s hilarious, but she’s British, so take it what you will… she’s smart, and she’s gorgeous, did I say she was gorgeous? Crockett! You have to move in on her _ now _ or someone else not as good as you is gonna snatch her up!”

"Kate what in _ hell _are you talking about?" I ask, trying to shush Kelley's giggling from behind me. "Who is this?"

She starts pacing. “Okay, so, my advisor, for my doctorate program, yeah? She’s new. She’s just joining the faculty, that’s why they put me with her, so there’s no inherent bias, but boy, is there gonna be bias—”

I grab her face between my hands. "Breathe. What the hell do you mean by 'doctorate'? Are you going for one?" 

“Oh, fuck!” She says. “Did I not tell you? I didn’t tell you. Kelley, did I not tell him?”

“You didn’t tell him,” Kelley deadpans, before Kate launches in again.

“I didn’t tell you! Good Lord, what am I doing? Crockett, I’ve been taking a class or two a semester since I started, you know, just brushin’ up on the ol’ history noggin, and lo and behold, I could have my Ph D by May of next year. Isn’t that buckwild?”

I start laughing. "Kate, that's incredible! I'm proud of you," I say, kissing her forehead warmly.

She starts beaming, distracted for a brief moment, until she pulls away and does a three-sixty. “My advisor, Crockett! Stop distracting me! You need to meet her. You need to meet her like, immediately. Crockett. She’s perfect.”

My hands are on my hips as I try to process this. 

She's jumping from here to there, and God, I need a map - maybe even a passport - to keep up. 

"And why do I need to meet your advisor?"

“I told you!” She says empathically. “I have met her, Crockett. _ Mrs. Dr. Crockett.” _

I choke, hands going to my knees as I'm hit with a little bit more information than I wish I had. 

She's _ matchmaking? _

"No-" I say, pointing at her. "Why are you doing this? What's she like?" Wait, why did I ask that?

“She’s…..she’s perfect.”

"There's food. Sit." My head's reeling a bit. 

Kate is trying to set me up with her advisor? That's an idea. Hmm. Maybe not the best one.

“Okay. Okay so. Dr. Raelynn Harlowe-Moore. Teaches Topics on Diplomatic history and Topics in Middle Eastern History.” She starts, trying to breathe. 

Despite my own efforts, I perk up when she mentions Middle Eastern history. 

"Oh?"

“Yeah. Yes. I told you,” she says, pointing at me. “Would I lead you astray?”

I nod. "Yeah, honestly." I smirk and blow her a kiss. "Continue."

“I did some digging on the way here,” she says matter-of-factly. “If my math’s right, she’s around thirty-five. Her Ph D is in Middle Eastern history, a focus in diplomatic history. Most I could get out of here was that her parents worked at the British embassy in Kabul when she was a kid, so she grew up in Afghanistan.”

I blink, halfway through passing her the pitcher of water. "Well then. She sounds… she sounds nice."

She fiddles with her phone. “Here’s her UIC profile.”

I take a look, and I smile. "She's… she's beautiful." Her eyes are soft and sweet. I can't help but want to meet her.

“I’ll get inside that brain,” Kate murmurs, looking at the phone. “She’ll be mine soon.”

I chuckle. "And here I thought you were trying to find _ me _ a girl, Mrs. Gerwitz," I tease her.

“I’ve got mine, Kelley’s got hers,” she throws a thumb in her direction. “You just need paired off. She’s perfect.Trust me. I got this one.”

I raise my hands. "A'right, I trust you." I eye her carefully. "Now, can someone please explain what you mean by 'Kelley's got hers'?"

“Raz? Dumba—“ she corrects. “That precious, wild boy on the hockey team. You know, the one who stayed over after the whole New Years fiasco?” 

I look at Kelley, and her beaming grin makes me chuckle. "The one you were dancing with when Kate and I interfered at the wedding?" 

She nods, and I sigh. There's stars in her eyes. 

"Okay, then."

“Not the point. Raelynn. Dr. Raelynn. You interested? I’ll drop some hints about my smart, sassy, hot surgeon friend, eh?”

I shrug. "Fine. I have the odd feeling that even if I didn't say so, you would anyway." I smile a bit. "But I like her."

“You know me too well,” she winks, and she takes a deep breath.

“How’re you guys?”


	14. Just Close Your Eyes, The Sun is Going Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett runs over the last week in his mind: the bus accident, the near miss with Dr. Abrams. After getting wasted at Molly's, Kate forces him to come home with her to sober up and talk through his issues over the Cavanagh spread.

_ You’ll be alright _

**January 10, 2020  
** **2341 Hours  
** **Molly’s Pub, Chicago  
** **Crockett **

It's all too damn heavy. The glass in my hand is heavy. So is remembering. I'd argue that's worse, honestly.

I'm not sure how many drinks I've had, but Kelley’s starting to give me a look when she refills my glass. 

I hate to ignore her, but I do. 

"Crockett, c'mon," she sighs, placing a bottle of water in front of me. "You gotta slow down."

"Just keep it comin'," I mutter. 

She glares at me, but tops up my glass anyway. 

I stay for a damn long time. I'm not quite sure what time it is, even. 

I keep drinking, almost as an afterthought. All I can think about are those kids. Their fear. The risk I took, that paid off, but what if it  _ didn't? _

"That's it, Marcel. Sorry, man, but I'm cuttin' you off." I look up, and Herrmann is in front of me, taking my now empty glass.

"Herrmann, c'mon. Please," I mutter, but I don't fight it. I'm so damn foggy and drunk I know I don't really have a leg to stand on.

"Kelley," he calls. "Can you get someone to come drag his ass home?" 

She sighs, nodding. "Yeah, yeah." 

I hear her on the phone, but I don't  _ hear  _ her. 

I just roll the still unopened bottle of water between my hands as I stare at it. I’m not sure how long I stare at it, because before long, I feel a presence beside me. 

“The hell is going on with you?” Kate says.

"Hmm?" I glance up at her. "Oh. Hey. Hey, Kate. What're you doin' here?"

“Pickin’ you up. C’mon. Let’s go. You’re done.”

"I took the bus," I protest. "I'm just dandy. I'm good. Herrmann cut me off."

“Okay, two things,” she says, scrubbing a hand over her face. “One, How long has it been since you ate, and two, what the  _ fuck _ happened?”

"Had a rough couple days. Shit case. Shitty. Don't like it. Messed up all 'round, Katie Kat. Gonna go home."

“You look fucking miserable. I’m grabbing you food and taking you home, c’mon,” she says, trying to bodily pull me off the stool. I follow her, stumbling, trying to catch myself on the bar. 

"I'm okay," I say, trying to rub my face. She just sighs, slipping under my arm to steady me. 

“Thanks, Kelley,” she sighs, giving her a little salute.

"Yeah, thank  _ you _ ," Kel says. "I appreciate it. He's been a bit of a moron tonight." 

I know what she means, I know it's in love, but I still slump a bit. Yeah, I know I have. 

I push for the door. I want out, suddenly. 

“Hey. Stop. You’re fine,” Kate sighs, helping me down the few stairs. “I’m parked around the corner, hang on. Dude. Chill. Please.” 

She points towards her car, nearly dragging me over, before she struggles to unlock the door and drop me to the passenger seat.

I pout, looking out the window. God, I feel like shit. "I'm okay," I mutter. She pushes a water bottle into my chest as she huffs, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car, but she sits there for a moment.

“Food. You’re eating no matter what. This is the last time you get a choice.”

"Don't feel like eatin'. Not hungry."

“You are eating something. If I know you, and I think at this point, I’m learning, you probably pulled a quadruple shift and ate a granola bar just because Maggie Lockwood forcefed you.”

"Didn't want it," I grumble, leaning my head on the window.

“Don’t have a choice. If you don’t pick, I’ll pick for you.”

"I'm not hungry. I'm nauseous. Can we just go home?"

She doesn’t say a word. She just puts it in drive and starts driving… somewhere. Her silence is enough to make me concerned. 

"I'm sorry," I breathe, staring at my hands.

“It’s not-- you just-- no. Stop. If you had some shit going on, I wish you would’ve called me.”

"Needed to drink."

“No one ever  _ needs _ to drink,” she says shortly.

"Fine," I mumble. I rub my face with both shaky hands, looking out the window again.

I realize we’re not on the way back to my apartment. It takes me almost all the way before I realize we’re stopping at her and Mouse’s place. When she parks, she gets out and leans against the car, waiting for me, looking out, anywhere but me. 

I slowly struggle out, tangling in the seatbelt, but I finally make it. When I straighten up, I look around, shivering. 

“Yeah, it’s cold,” she says flatly. “Let’s go.” 

It’s almost martial, the way she marches me through the still cold lobby, up the stairs, down the hall to their apartment. Mouse waits, yawning, in the doorway. 

“What happened?” 

“Haven’t gotten that far,” she says, pushing past. He eyes me. 

“You look like hell.”

"Thanks," I mumble. "I'm sorry."

“Why you apologizin’?” He asks, shutting the door behind us. He ducks under my arm like Kate did, pulling me towards the couch. When he drops me carefully, a glass of water just appears in his hand and he offers it to me. 

"H-how'd you do that-" I blink, and I must be smashed as hell, because I'm way more weird than normal. "Sorry someone had to come get my sorry ass."

“That’s what we do,” Kate says absentmindedly. She flops down next to me. “What the  _ fuck _ happened to you?”

“Bus accident,” Mouse says quietly. My eyes well up, and I look down. 

"The- the kids," I whisper, and I clear my throat, trying to sound better than I feel. "They're fine. Both of them. On the mend. All good."

“How did you know?” She asks Mouse. 

“On the news. Do you never watch the news?”

“No, I just get angry. So what’s the problem?” She says to me, gesturing towards the glass. 

I take a drink, shrugging. "Just… rough when it's kids, an' it's high stakes, and- and it was a risky damn move."

“Okay, risky is kinda what we do, right? It worked?”

"Yeah," I breathe. "Barely."

“Barely still means it worked,” she says. “Why did you go off the rails?”

"Got hot-headed, went up against Manning, she gave me hell for a while, but the fact'a the matter is, the parents were right. What gave me the right to potentially kill one kid in order to try to save them both?" I push the glass away, putting my head in my hands.

“You made a call. You gotta live with it,” Kate says. 

"Livin' ain't the problem," I mutter. "Never mind, yeah, it is." I lean against the back of the couch, shutting my eyes. 

“That’s the alcohol talking,” Mouse says. He hands me the glass again. Kate sighs. 

“I’m making him a sandwich.”

She gets up and huffs into the kitchen. Mouse just sighs. 

“Sorry about her. She’s just grumpy. When Kelley called, she just got pissed. Saying somethin’ about you missin’ some breakfasts.”

"Not hungry," I mutter. "Why is everyone focusin' on that? It's annoyin'."

“I don’t think it was about the food, Crockett,” he sighs. 

"What do you mean?"

“You know, the little meetings you and Kate have? The ones I’m not invited to? Ever since after the wedding.”

"Oh. Yeah. I… yeah." I try to keep my eyes closed so I don't have to meet his eyes.

“What’s been goin’ on, brother?” He says in a small voice. 

"Just busy. And tired. And then busy again." I hate how my voice breaks in the middle. 

“You sure about that?” He says. I hear Kate fumbling in the kitchen, cursing under her breath. 

"I'm fine." 

“Yeah, and I’m a member of the royal family,” Kate calls out. She comes back and sets the PB&J on the coffee table. “You’ve been outta sorts all week. Even when I tried to tell you I found your wife.”

I swallow hard. "Yeah, well." 

Somehow I now hurt worse. 

I just pull my feet up under me, shutting my eyes again. "I'm just tired."

“You’re just shutting down,” Kate says. “Fine. Don’t come running to me then when you need me.”

“ _ Kate—“ _

“I’m not gonna deal with this shit! He’s drunk, and he’s clearly not wanting to talk, just let him sleep it off. I’m sick of pushing him. If he doesn’t want to talk, well, I don’t know what he wants. It’s not my responsibility to go after him.”

"I just don't want to talk about this right now. This… maybe a day when I'm not visibly impaired with a substance. The point if me drinkin' was so I didn't have to think about it, and I'm not sayin' it'll never get talked about, and some of it never will, but I just… I can't fuckin'  _ function  _ right now," I say desperately. "Cases with kids, cases I pulled the life support of someone who was not the person we thought it was, fuckin'  _ memories  _ that… that- I'm tired, I'm not hungry, and I'm just fuckin' miserable, an' I'm bein' a lousy human and an even lousier friend," I finish, and it just sounds broken and pathetic now. Fuck. Fuck, am I  _ crying?  _ Fuck. 

To hell with it all.

Kate just grabs the plate with a sigh, but hands me the glass of water. “Please. At least drink some water,” she says in a small voice. “The guest room is open. Just… try to sleep okay?”

I nod, finishing the glass, and I look up at her. "I can sleep? That's… that's okay?" I whisper.

She gives me a look. It’s not an angry look, it’s just concerned. 

“Of course you can. It ain’t gonna help talkin’ about it now. Drink another glass of water, sleep it off. Best thing you can do right now.”

I nod, getting up and stumbling a bit for the kitchen. I work my way through another glass, then carefully make my way to the guest room. When I sit down, that's when the crash hits. The exhaustion and the tears at the same time. 

I just curl up on top of the comforter, pulling my jacket around me as I listen to the sounds of the apartment. I can just vaguely hear them.

“You need to chill the fuck out,” Mouse says. 

“I am chill! You should have seen him! He could barely stand up!”

“You know, you could show him a little compassion.”

“I am. He can’t go off half cocked like that. It’s not gonna help anything.”

“You do it all the time.”

Kate groans. “Can you just—let him sleep it off. We can talk about it in the morning.”

“Glad we agree on something.”

She seems to huff off, but I feel a presence in the room beside me. Mouse just pulls off my shoes and starts to move the comforter down, inching it down enough that I can crawl underneath.

I barely shift enough so I'm under the covers, letting out a long breath that sounds like I'm about to cry. Hell, I haven't stopped. 

"Thanks," I whisper.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” he breathes. “Don’t mind her, okay? She just violently wants to help, but doesn’t get it when someone says ‘not right now, let me wallow for a second’. Just don’t wallow too long, alright?”

"Okay." I blink at him. He's all blurry. Why… somethin' I gotta… "Contacts," I say in a small voice, going for the container in my pocket. "Small mirror?"

“What? Oh. Hang on. Lemme find one.”

Mouse jumps up and skitters out of the room, only to come back a few moments later holding a compact. “This work? Too small?”

"It works." I squint as I try to get them out, and finally I finish. I hand him the mirror and the case, sliding back down. "I trust you with my eyes," I say seriously. 

“I’m not sure what that means, admittedly, but yeah, I got this. They’ll be in the bathroom, on the sink, okay? You gonna be able to sleep? I’ll leave you some tylenol on the bedside if you wake up early. Take it, drink the glass of water, go back to sleep for a while. Hangover cure.”

I blink dumbly at him. "Words." 

He holds up my contacts. “Bathroom sink.” Points to the nightstand. “Water and tylenol.”

I give him a thumbs up. He just smiles. “Try to sleep? Please? We’ll be up in the morning if you want to talk. Or not. Whatever you want.”

"Sleep… reassess… in conclusion, yes," I mumble. "Yes."

He just sits down on the edge of the bed, watching me for a moment. He’s not speaking, but he’s lingering. 

"Yessss?" I turn on my side so I can see him better. 

“Oh, sorry, I can go. I was just gonna wait until you fell asleep.”

"Oh." I can't help the small smile. "Thank you."

He just gives me a nod, a half smile, and seems to settle in at the foot of the bed. 

I nestle down enough to feel at least a semblance of warmth, and sleep comes for me, and it's  _ fast. _ It's not unwelcome, either. 

* * *

_ Come morning light, you and I’ll be safe and sound _

**January 11, 2020  
** **0814 Hours  
** **1111 W 14th Place #122, Little Italy, Chicago  
** **Kate**

I should make breakfast. I don’t know what he wants, but I should. He’s going to be waking up soon—at least, that’s the hope—and I was a bit harsh to him last night.

Hey. It’s not completely my fault. He’s been on radio silence since the other day I busted into their apartment, talking about Dr. Harlowe-Moore, and ever since, he hasn’t spoken to me. 

I can’t say I’m not pissed. I feel a little shut out.

So instead I brew a carafe of coffee twice as large as usual and settle in on the stool to page through my phone and look through the sports news. 

“You’re still mad.”

Greg gives me a look, scratching his head and grabbing the Chicago PD mug from the counter, rinsing it, eyeing it like it might not be clean enough, and then filling it anyway.

“I’m not  _ mad _ , per se. I’m just…. I’m pissed.”

“That’s mad.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“What is your deal today?”

I sigh. “Something’s wrong, more than just that bus case, and he won’t tell me why. I feel like he’s shutting me out again. Or trying to. And I know what that does to a person. I know what that does to him in particular. It ain’t good, Greg. It ain’t good.”

“He was drunk,” he says, blinking at me. “Can you cut him a break?”

“No! I do not want to cut him a break. No one has cut me a break! No one will cut anyone a break, welcome to our world. I want to help him and he won’t let me.”

“And there it is,” he says over the rim of his mug. “‘Let me help you, stop struggling!’” He mimes in my voice. 

“That’s not fair.”

“I’m just saying. It’s how you show love. ‘Take my help or so help me God, I’ll shove it down your throat.’ Sometimes you need a gentler touch.”

“Is that what you have?”

“Uh, maybe? I gave him tylenol, another glass of water, and sent him to bed. It was the best thing at the time.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Uh, I am right, because I’ve been on the other end of your shit, and sometimes, taking a sleep is the best thing. You’re a lot, Kate Gerwitz. Not sayin’ that’s a bad thing. It’s just a thing.”

I stick my tongue out at him and go back to my scrolling. 

"It is a mornin'," I hear from the doorway. "It is a mornin', and do not call it good." 

When I look, he's half asleep, hair sticking every which way, his flannel rumpled and wonky-looking. Mouse steps forward and readjusts it, pulling it down on one side. “You want a shower or something? Change a’clothes?”

He shakes his head. "Maybe when there's not a Mariachi construction team workin' on the Anvil Chorus inside my head." 

Mouse looks at his barely touched mug of coffee, and then offers it to Crockett wordlessly.

“You need this more than I do.”

"You're beautiful," Crockett tells him absentmindedly, hugging it to him. Mouse just goes for another mug, pouring more for himself and then topping off mine. 

“You want breakfast?” I ask. 

Crockett startles a bit, then gives me the tiniest of smiles. "If… if that's okay," he says softly. 

“What’re you in the mood for? Sweet? Savory? A bit of both? A wide spread?”

“Her Cavanagh spread is a decent hangover food,” Greg admits. 

"Maybe that," he murmurs. "Can I help?"

I squint at him. “Have I done this for you before? What am I saying, we’ve been friends for approximately three months, uh, so. It’s an Irish thing. Mouse, freezer.”

He slowly moves to the freezer and starts pulling out breakfast meats. 

“Bacon and sausage, check.”

“I gotta make boxty,” I mutter, jumping off the stool. 

“Eggs and pancakes?”

“Both,” I say. “All. Crockett, check that cabinet for baked beans. Those are crucial.”

He heads for the cabinet, blinking at the cans. "Thick'n rich?" 

“Like I like my men,” I say, but Greg says it along with me. 

“That’s distinctly a lie,” he deadpans. “I am neither thick nor rich.”

He drinks the rest of the coffee in his mug and I pull his t-shirt down over his abs. I resist the urge to smack them. 

“Thank you. I would have spit out coffee had you done what you were planning on doing.”

"You are in the ways that matter, boy," Crockett mutters, giving Greg a raised eyebrow and a distinct smack. He blushes, leaning his forehead on the counter. "Oh, my God, I have no filter," he moans.

Greg just grabs his mug and refills it. “I kind of enjoy it? That’s fine with me. I don’t mind the come-ons.”

I just roll my eyes, pointing to the stove. “Greg. Meats. Now.”

He gives me a wicked grin as I start working on the potatoes.

"I am insane," Crockett mutters. "I'm okay."

“Sit, m’boyo,” I say, pointing to the stool. “Let’s rap.”

"Uh oh," he breathes, and he makes himself laugh. 

I just keep mixing up the boxty. “No one gets drunk to just get drunk. What happened last night?”

"I came off a quad shift," he murmurs. "We… it's been a rough few days for Gaffney. First Sam Abrams, then this whole bus shit."

“Okay, step by step, what happened with Dr. Abrams?” I ask, practically beating the potatoes.

"He was comin' back from somewhere, conference or somethin', but the plane crashed. Ambo brought in a guy, bad, bad, bad off. With a conference badge. Unidentifiable otherwise. Between the internal damage, and the burns… hell, the spinal injury…" he drifts for a moment. "It was bad. There was a chance for him to wake up, but it would be unlikely for him to walk or use his arms again." 

“Wait, wait,” Greg says, turning around to eye him. “How did he have his badge?”

"That's the only ID on him, everything else was burnt out. Sam's seat, the specific medical conference badge… and no one could get ahold of him. So we had no choice to believe it was him."

“Okay, that sucks, but  _ how? _ ” Greg says. He squints. I’m trying to follow along too, but it’s not making sense to me, either.

"I'm not followin'," Crockett says, looking up at us. "Unidentifiable, tag said the name of the conference Sam was at, rest was burned, same flight from Honolulu that Dr. Charles said he was supposed to be on. So Sam's wife came, and she… she decided she wanted him off life support. That…" he sighs. "That he'd hate it, livin' completely dependent on others for the rest of his life. For  _ everythin'." _

I shudder. “Nope. No. None of that. I can’t do that bullshit.”

I see Greg out of the corner of my eye just focus on messing with the breakfast meats. 

“How did you figure out that he wasn’t Sam?”

"Michelle, his wife agreed to pull the plug, so I stayed while Choi took a walk. Next thing I know, he came sprintin' back, yellin' for us to stop. Started CPR and baggin' the guy, Michelle panics… I look up and Sam is behind him. Wasn't Sam at all in that bed," he whispers. "Was a pharm rep Sam met."

“How did he have the badge?” Greg almost says desperately, like he’s trying to figure it out. 

"Same conference. We… we musta jumped so damn hard about the name, the conference, the fact that someone with the conference tag was sittin' in the same seat as Sam was supposed to be, we had no choice," Crockett says into his hands. 

“Sounds pretty black and white to me,” Greg says. “You made the right call with the information you had.”

"If I was in the situation, I'd do the same if that's what they'd want," he says softly. "Hell. I'd rather die than face livin' like that, myself."

‘I tried,” Greg offers, holding up his hand like he’s getting called on in class. I just push his arm down and kiss his cheek. 

“Glad you didn’t.”

“Failed a lot in life. Couldn’t even die right. Thank God, too,” he says, kissing me again. I just smile. 

“Cook the boxty.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.”

Crockett watches us, his eyes shifting back to his hands, and there's a small smile that doesn't quite match the glisten in his eyes. I’m not sure what to say, other than pushing for more information. 

“So, why are you so upset?”

"I've lost a lot of patients in my time. Most had people to love them. But I almost pulled the plug- which I absolutely hate doin', but it happens- on a man who's family wouldn't even know. It… it bothers me. But it is what it is." He shrugs, looking down again. "God, Choi fought me hard, but for all the wrong reasons."

“What happened to that guy?” Greg says absentmindedly. “Eh, whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

I wave my hand at him, passing him the open baked bean can. He tosses it into a pan with a disgusting sounding splat. “I understand that it bothers you. That’s okay. It should. That’s a human life. Conversely, you were workin’ with the information you had at the time. That’s understandable. That’s commendable. You didn’t want anyone to suffer. That’s what counts.”

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Is what it is. Gave Choi hell for pokin' around Sam's damn  _ life insurance,  _ and makin' assumptions about his wife, and… man makes me mad sometimes."

I grimace.”Ew. Choi. Gross. That’s… why can’t anyone trust anyone anymore?” I grumble, starting on pancakes. 

“Now you sound like me,” Greg mutters, chuckling a little. 

“You’ve definitely picked up better grammatical tendencies since we met.”

“Thank God, too, now that I’m Professor Gerwitz.”

"I just… yeah. Man's an idiot. He… he's alright here and there, don't get me wrong. He’s good at what he does. He just sorta… rubs me the wrong way."

“Different viewpoints on a lot of stuff,” I say. Greg just gestures with his spatula. “Fuckin’ squids,” we say at the same time, mocking each other’s voices.

Crockett stares at us. "Jinx," he mutters. "Neither of you can say anythin' till I let you."

I snap my mouth shut. Of course I honor Jinx Rules. I’m not a monster. 

I just keep mixing up the pancakes as Greg keeps on stove duty. He glances at me, and I smirk. 

Both of us are too damn bullheaded to ever break before the other, so this could take a while.

Crockett just smiles a tiny bit, taking another drink. "Ah, yes. Quiet. Makes me remember that I can drink Kate under the table."

I look at him angrily, trying not to comment, but I squint at him. 

"And that I can kick her ass in a fight."

I clench my teeth.

He starts singing something under his breath about how he can kick my ass and he'll refuse to lose. 

I just throw my pancake batter spoon at him. He catches it, padding to the sink and dropping it in, giving me a tired grin and going back to the stool. 

I glare at him, not moving my eyes away from him as I scramble for another wooden spoon. Greg pulls it out of the jug near the stove and pushing it into my hand. 

"Gonna kick your ass, drink you under the table, and gonna go ask Kelley for that picture she took from the Bachelorette party," Crockett snickers.

I breathe, just getting out the griddle and silently making the pancakes. I just hear Greg giggling under his breath.

"Apparently, Kelley has quite a few such pictures," he continues. "There's apparently one that Kate might kill if it ever sees the light of day. Maybe I'll go ask a Halstead for some good old stories, too."

I just let out a sigh, and I leave the pancakes to cook and go around the counter to Crockett. I hug him from behind, kissing him on the cheek. He needs this more than I do.

He lets out a long breath, turning to hug me properly. "Okay," he whispers. He pulls me closer. He almost feels like a wound-up spring. I just run my hands over his shoulders, snapping my fingers at Greg to check over the pancakes. 

Crockett melts a bit, leaning his head on my shoulder. I see glistening in his eyes.

“Can I talk now?” I whisper. He nods. I kiss him on the cheek again. “What about the bus thing? You mentioned it last night. Why did that get you all messed up?”

"Kids, Katie," he says softly. "Kids. Two kids, and they both almost died, and… the thought of havin' to tell their parents that… I can't do it. I can't. I can't do it."

“But they didn’t,” I say. “You saved them.”

He nods, still quiet. He looks up to me, tears in his eyes. "I made that choice, to try an' save them both. All or nothin' on a Hail Mary. Kids, Katie."

“You did the right thing,” I say. “You did.”

"I know. I know I did. I know," he breathes. He drops his head to my shoulder again, trying to wipe his face. I offer him my sleeve. 

He tries, only succeeding in a bit of a sad giggle. 

“You are insufferable,” I mutter. “Greg, those pancakes are burning. I can smell it.”

“I like them a little charred.”

“You’re the worst, that’s  _ bacon _ .”

“I like those charred, too.”

Crockett just pulls me back into a hug, letting out a long, heavy sigh. 

“You got anything else to talk about?” I ask. He shakes his head. 

"I'm good now." 

“You’re gonna be good here in a second,” I say as Mouse starts turning off burners. “I’ll make more coffee.”

He nods. "Sorry for stumblin' in like a drunk cat in a catnip store," he mumbles.

Greg just bursts out laughing. “Oh, my God! What is that?! What is that bullshit?!”

"What? What's what?"

“Drunk cat in a catnip store?!”

"It's common!"

“I have  _ never heard  _ that!”

I snort, getting plates. “Yo, Gerwitz! Your German and Polish ass doesn’t do too bad of a Cavanagh Spread!”

"Common in the south, anyway," he grumbles, getting up and nearly pitching into the ground.

“Alright there, buckaroo, why don’t you just tell him what you want and we’ll get you sorted out?”

“At least he didn’t make a huge deal about the eggs like Kelley did,” Greg chuckles. 

"Eggs?"

“No. None of that,” I say. “I don’t want that insanity. You’re supposed to be hungover.”

"I am. Unbearably. I am hangin' off the migraine by my teeth." He gives me a sad smile.

Greg just pours more coffee into his mug.

“Hey. You’re always welcome here, hangover or otherwise.”

"Thanks," he sighs. "I… thanks."

“Regardless of mood,” Greg says, pointedly glaring at me. 

“Hey! I did my best! I was upset he was drinking to forget! I know how that feels!”

"I know," he says softly. "It's okay. I get it."

“I wasn’t angry at you,” I say. “I was mad at the situation. You’ve been off all week. It’s not your fault. I just want to help, you know? Sometimes I get a  _ little _ aggressive.”

"A little?" He teases softly. "No, I know. I wish I'd said somethin' before." 

“I know we’re all new to this friendship, family thing, but I’m here for you. I take it back, you know,” I whisper. “I’ll always chase after you. Maybe not in the way you want, but I will.”

"I know," he says, giving me a smile. "I know. An' it goes both ways."

“Don’t tempt her like that. She’ll take that and run with it. Trust me.”

I take my plate, filled with goodies, from Greg as he hands Crockett a plate. I just snatch a piece of bacon happily. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll follow you to hell and back. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist or a trauma surgeon to figure that out. We’re ride or die, take it or leave it.”

"Agreed. Better or worse."

I hold up my mug. “For better or worse, baby.”

I forcibly clink mine against his, and once I smack against Greg’s, I see his smirk. 

For better or worse. 


	15. It's all coming back to me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley and Mouse have a bonding moment over some old memories and a new podcast. Still, they attempt to find a new normal, especially after getting Crockett back onto the ice after twenty years. Besides, it all comes back to him.

_There were moments of gold and there were flashes of light_

**January 12, 2020** **  
** **1543 Hours** **  
** **1111 W 14th Place #122, Little Italy, Chicago** **  
** **Mouse**

I can’t stop laughing. I seriously can’t. I keep scrolling on my laptop and I keep losing my headphones, and I think Kelley’s gonna start thinking I’m nuts.

I glance up to the TV. I don’t even know what she’s watching at this point, but I do know she’s stolen my favorite red hoodie and I’m afraid she’s gonna have to fight Kate for it later. But she looks so comfy. I can’t stop her now. 

Even through the heaving giggles I seem to have caught, our lazy Saturday afternoon feels… nice. A bit cathartic, considering. Actually, I think Kelley was starting to fall asleep before I started laughing.

"You good there, buddy boy?" Kelley looks up at me, smiling. 

I’m really not, because I’m pretty sure there’s tears in my eyes. I snort a little and pull my headphones off.

“That’s a deep question for a Saturday afternoon, but hell, I’m mostly good. Jesus,” I mutter, wiping the tears.

"Stop that," she mutters, determined, as she uses the hoodie's sleeve to try and wipe the tears, but only succeeding in simultaneously whapping me in the face and almost poking my eye.

It just makes me giggle that much more. 

“I’m sorry, I’m listening to old clips from this podcast I listen to,” I say, pausing the YouTube playlist. “Got me a little too good.”

"I wanna hear," she says, scooting closer. I hold my arm up so she can lay on me while I pull the headphone jack out of my laptop.

“Alright so. Context, otherwise you’ll be so confused. They’re three brothers, and it’s…. technically an advice podcast. So people send in questions and they give their advice but it usually goes so, so wrong. And sometimes they read questions from Yahoo! Answers which just gets…. Buckwild.”

She snorts. "That can go so, so wrong… but then so can I."

I chuckle a little and then scroll through the list, looking for one of my favorites. “Here we go. _A Case of the Mondays. _To be honest, I don’t even remember the context for this one anymore.”

I press play, and one of the brothers starts talking about his plethora of Tybee Island t-shirts, and how his collection started ironically, and now half his clothes say something like “it’s five o clock somewhere”. I’m already snorting as the youngest brother starts amping up. 

“_ We’re killing fashion, one shirt at a time, take that.” _

I’m already wheezing a little as I look to Kelley to see her reaction. She's giggling and hanging onto me.

_“Cut me some slack,” _The eldest brother says, before the youngest starts in. 

“_ I have Spotify open right now on my computer. Do you want me to blast you? Do you want me to put you on blast? ‘Cause I’ve got your history right here in the sidebar….” _

Each song title he mentions, he gets increasingly angrier and louder. I can’t stop laughing into my fist. 

_“Take It Back” by Jimmy Buffett, “Nautical Wheelers” by Jimmy Buffett, “Jolly Mon Sing” by Jimmy Buffett, “Steamer” by Jimmy Buffett, “Treat Her Like a Lady” by Jimmy Buffett, “Manana” by Jimmy Buffett, “When Salome Plays the Drum” by James Buffett, “Havana Daydreaming” by Jimmy Buffett. What the fuck happened to you?!”_

_“I had a case of the Mondays!”_

_“Are you haunted? Are you _fucking possessed? _You used to be my _brother!”

The clip ends, and I’m officially wheezing.

Kelley's barely breathing, she's laughing that hard. "Mouse, Mouse, he-" she smacks my arm, snorting.

“He had a case of the Mondays!” I snort. “Okay, okay, okay. You need another one. I think… I think you’ll like Origami Steve and Cursing Jerry,” I say scrolling through the list.

"Oh, no," she mutters. "Oh, no. Hell yes. Give it to me, I am ready."

The middle brother starts in on the bit. “_ Hey, are you good at origami?”_

_“Hell, yeah,” _says the eldest. 

_“Alright, well, don’t curse. We’re in school.”_

The younger brother comes in—”_ Fuck yeah, fuck yeah, dude!”_

“_ Hey, hey, I heard that—”_

_“Yo! He’s—this guy’s fucking so tight. Is he fucking… is Origami Steve good at origami? _Doumb foucking question!”

I have to pause because his inflection is so ridiculous, I’m wheezing and coughing again.

"Doumb foucking question!" Kelley screeches, giggling. "Yes, I need this."

_“Think about it. Think about it with your fucking brain before you—”_

_“Get out of here, Cursing Jerry!”_

_“Cursing Jerry is vaping everywhere!”_

_“Get o—I’m trying to talk to Origami Steve.”_

_“Oh, shit, he's folding up my vape fog in the air!”_

_“Don't curse! I'm gonna send you to the principal's office! Get out of here! Now, I'm sorry. Origami Steve. I know you're good at origami. Can you fold books into words?”_

The younger brother and his character for the bit sounds far away from the microphone. _“He's the fucking best at origami!”_

_“I swear to God! Cursing Jerry, I'll call your dad! Okay. Can you fold books—’_

_“Not my fucking dad!’_

_“I'll call your dad!”_

_“Aw, fuck!”_

_“Get to lunch! It's Taco Tuesday.”_

_“Fuck yeah it is.”_

_“Now, can you fold books into words?”_

_“Only Bibles.”_

I have to clutch onto Kelley, I’m laughing so hard.

"Not my fucking dad!" Kelley's crying, and she's wheezing as she leans into me.

“Okay, okay, okay,” I mutter, and I look for the clip that I’m hunting for. “So they had a couple episode TV show, and I know there’s a clip somewhere. Oh, hell yeah, here it is.”

They do their intro of the fact that they’re taking over their hometown’s Safety Town, and how each of them gets a separate section to rule. 

“Okay, so, Griffin, he’s the youngest brother, he’s fuckin’ insane in the best way,” I explain as he ends up in one of those little electric kiddie cars and starts patroling, while his shirtless brother tries to steal one. 

He starts to encroach on his elder brother’s territory, and the background music starts slipping into ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’.

_“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Yo! What the fuck, dog?!”_

"That's where you get it from!" Kelley wheezes, practically in my lap laughing.

_“Where did you get the whip?!”_

“Yeah, dude! Half the shit they say has slipped into my everyday lexicon! I’ve been listening to them since… Lord, before I left when I re-enlisted,” I laugh. “I had a bunch to catch up on.”

She hugs closer into me, laying her head on my shoulder. I pause the video for a second. 

“Does Kate ever talk to you about that?”

She shakes her head. "Very little. Every time it starts going that way, she gets that look in her eye, so I try and steer it away again. I don't like that look," she says quietly, leaning into me.

“We’ve never talked about it, either,” I say, pulling a little on the strings of my hoodie, straightening the hood behind her head a little. “I know you weren’t here yet, but it still affects you.”

She looks up at me, and there's a look in her eyes. "Does it?"

“Hell yeah. Still affects Kate and I. She tries to tell me it doesn’t, but on her bad days, I know she thinks about it. I know she’s bothered by the fact I up and left.”

"Why did you?" She whispers, her hand slipping into mine.

“I felt…. I felt useless. I felt like all I was doing was… I don’t know. I wasn’t going anywhere. Jay told me to become a cop, but I didn’t want to be a thirty something rookie. All I knew was to be a soldier.”

"Bouncing, floating," she says softly.

“Too much noise,” I mutter. “I couldn’t protect her.”

She snuggles into me. "You're here."

“I know,” I say. I pull her even closer. “I’m glad I made it back.”

"Me too." Her hand touches my cheek as she relaxes a bit. "I'm glad you're here."

I sigh heavily. “You haven’t seen the best part of this clip,” I say. I gotta change the subject, so I press play again.

_“I’m part car, part boy, boycar, the protector and king of Chilladelphia!” _he drags his baton against the ground. _“New Duckberg! Come out and play!”_

_“Okay, this is intentionally threatening!”_

The chaos continues, until the two elder brothers are handcuffed together, and suddenly, they’re getting in trouble and have to put away the electric car. 

The giggling comes back and I’m not sorry.

She's snorting. "That is _appalling. _I want one."

“Do you want more clips?” I ask tentatively. 

"I want _all _the clips," she says, leaning into my arm as she yawns. I pull her into me. 

“You know I love you, right?”

"I love you too," she says. "You get it. You're my brother. My big brother."

I pull up a few more clips, set them up to autoplay, and pull her even closer. 

“Glad I’ve got you.”

"I'm glad you've got me too," she says, cracking a smile.

I settle down with her, pushing my laptop to the center of the coffee table. Kate should be home soon, and that’s fine, but I don’t mind just sitting with Kelley. 

Yeah. Just sitting. 

* * *

_It's so hard to believe  
_ **January 14, 2020  
1405 Hours   
Johnny’s Ice House East  
Mouse **

“What the hell is this garbage?” I yell over the really loud music. It really doesn’t need to be this loud, but we somehow thought it was a good idea for Kelley to have control of the music today. 

At the present, she’s doing laps around the rink, and Raz is trying to catch her. I know he can move faster. Her gleeful laughing, though, keeps making him move just slowly enough that he’s right behind her. 

I look at where Crockett is gripping the boards as he steps onto the ice.

"There are knives on my feet," he grumbles. "It's been about twenty years since I've done this."

He's hanging onto the boards, glaring at his feet.

And Kate is just…. seal clapping, overjoyed, wearing her oversized Patrick Kane jersey. It makes me smirk. Can’t help it. She watches Crockett as he struggles and is just…. delighted. 

She throws her head back in a loud, loud laugh that echoes through the rink and I wish I could hear it better because—

“Why the hell is this Pitbull _so loud?”_

Kelley shrugs, pausing long enough that Raz crashes into her. "Because it's Pitbull!" She shouts back, and now she's chasing him.

Crockett is hanging onto the boards as he slowly moves. "This is not… not ideal, y'all."

I sigh, skating up to Crockett. “Alright. What you got? C’mon.”

I hold out my hands. 

He takes them slowly, and he pushes off the boards, wobbling. 

"Twenty years, I remember nothing," he mutters. 

“Balance on the edges of your skates. Nah, too wide, brother. Too wide. Bring it in. Bend your knees a little. There you go.”

"It's like I have to relearn it," he says, but he does what I say.

“So to move, you kind of step back on an angle with your right and kick off. You’ll glide a little. Then you’ll bring your foot back, balance on both, switch your weight and then do the same with your left.”

This time, when I look up, I see Kate, gliding on the other side of the rink, gloved hands crossed over her chest. I see her smirk. I don’t think she realizes I see it. But I do. 

He tries it, and clutches my hands as he slips a bit farther than he meant. 

_"Merde," _he mutters, hanging onto my hands.

“I got you, brother,” I mutter. Damn. My balance is better than I thought. Still not used to skating backwards. 

He tries again, a little shaky, until his left foot slips too far and he lets go. He lands face first on the ice with another muffled swear.

“I had you, man,” I start laughing, pulling him, still struggling, to his feet. “Shoulda held on!”

"It's been too long," he whines, trying to stand still. He's trying too hard.

“Chill. Chill, man. Breathe. Ain’t no one here to impress.”

"How about myself?" 

He starts again, a bit smoother now. "How's this, Mouse?"

“There we go. Yeah. You got it.” I’m almost distracted by my wife as she attempts a figure skating jump next to me. I swear, she does it on purpose.

“Doin’ great, ‘Kett!” She calls, going after Raz.

Crockett gets a smile as he smooths out. I think he's getting it. 

He looks up to me with a look of excitement. "I'm doin' it, man, I think I'm getting it back!"

Kate does loops around us. “Yeah, dude! Get it! How soon you gonna try out for the team?”

He almost hits the ground. 

"No. No, no. No, that-" he points at her. "Is not happening. Bad idea. Bad bad idea. Bad Kate. No."

“Why not?” She coos. She’s playing him. Or at least trying. “I got Mouse. Kelley. You’re next.”

"Can I get used to having large scalpels on my feet again?" He winks at me and turns, wobbly, and then tries to skate the length of the rink.

“You should be used to scalpels by now!” She yells. Right before Kelley body slams into her. 

Crockett tries to turn quickly, trying to get to them.

"Are you two okay? Kate? Kel?" He's almost falling over himself.

On the ice, flat on her back, Kate is wailing. Not crying, no, laughing her ass off. Crockett drops to his knees beside her, wincing at the impact. 

"Kate? You okay? Why… why are you laughing? Are you okay?"

“Direct hit!” Kate manages, pushing Kelley over onto the ice. “Look! You made Crockett worry!” 

I roll my eyes. Raz continues his figure eights in the middle of the rink. 

"Did either of you hit your head?" He asks, one hand trying to run over Kelley's head, and he looks to Kate. 

“I’m fine! Chill, Crockett, Seriously. Go back to skating. What, uh, position did you play?”

He struggles to his feet, and after a moment of trouble, he starts going backwards with a look of pure glee. "Left forward usually." He looks almost dreamy as he slowly regains his balance.

“Yeah? What’s your play style?” She says, winking at me. I should flirt with her. Wait, I don’t need to. I’ll say something dirty later. She’s focused. She helps Kelley up, and circumvents the dreamy Crockett. Well, more dreamy than usual. Dammit. Kate was right, he is my gay thing. I’m at least allowed one, right?

“Internal monologue,” Kelley says, tapping on my forehead before skating past. 

She grins back at me and watches as Crockett swoops around a corner. Except he's not paying attention, and almost collides with me. The sheer force of it slams me into the boards, and I chuckle, pointing at Crockett.

“Hey, you better not be hedgin’ your bets here and fakin’ being a shitty skater!” I say. “I’ve been put in the sin bin for worse!”

He grins, and for a moment he looks… young. Like he's at peace with the world. 

He pushes off again, and pulls off a slightly rusty figure eight. 

"It's all comin' back, it's all comin' back to me now," he sings, quietly at first, then building. "There were moments of gold, and there were flashes of light…"

He eases into a turn, then almost giggles as he seems to make up his mind. "There were things I'd never do again but then, they'd always seemed right. There were nights of endless pleasure," he belts, whipping by Kate, "It was more than any laws allowed!" He pushes off, and then he's in the air, one rotation as he lands, wobbling, but upright. He zips closer to me, smiling. 

He's past me, and then he's flat on his back. 

He's laughing hard enough he can barely finish the song.

"When you touch me like this, and when you hold me like that, it was gone with the wind, but it's all coming back to me now…" 

He lets his eyes close as he lays there on the ice, giggling breathlessly. 

Kate continues seal clapping. Raz is real clapping, like he’s impressed, but Kate cuts everyone off with a bellowing yell:

“He’s ready!”


	16. Echoes of the Shots Ring Out And We May Be the First to Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marcel is grabbed off the street, Kelley calls in the cavalry. That includes family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formerly under the name "Off The Street".

**January 17, 2020  
** ** **** **0840 Hours**  
**210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Kelley** **

I let my bag fall to the ground, and I strip my coat off. 11 am. Perfect.

"Crockett, I'm home!" I call over the music from the radio, and I hear a resounding crash from the kitchen.

I follow the noise to see several pots on the floor, and my brother leaning against the cupboard holding his head. 

"You okay?" I ask urgently as I move forward. 

He grimaces, suddenly unsteady.

"Just dropped these metal pieces of shit," he mutters as he pushes himself off the wall. There's a small cut over his eye, probably where something hit him. 

"Crockett, hey sit," I tell him, snagging a chair with my foot and pushing him into it. 

I grab a washcloth and a few butterfly closures and set to work. 

"What happened?" I ask as I work, and he sighs. 

"Was looking for a pot. When I found it, it caught the stack as I pulled it out."

He looks mournfully at the offending object on the floor, now bent beyond repair.

"Well, I was going to use that," he pouts and I can't help but laugh. I finish covering the cut and he stands up with a kiss to my cheek.

"I need to buy a new pot. Movie marathon when I get back?" He asks as he disappears into his rooms and comes back with his wallet. 

"Hell yeah," I laugh. "It's my turn to pick."

He pauses to point at me accusingly. "Pretty sure it's mine," he says, suspicious and I can't stop laughing. 

"Nope, it's mine, Marcel, go buy your pot." He bursts out into surprised laughter and shakes his head. 

"I highly suggest you rethink your words!" He calls as he slips his shoes on, and he's gone before I can reply. 

I grin and start cleaning up the mess. Pots and pans _everywhere_.

* * *

**Crockett**

I check my phone. I'm just going to walk to Metra Mart; it's not far. It's still a crisp January morning, and I burrow my hands deep in my pockets as the infamous Chicago wind kicks up. It's a short walk to the store, and thanks be to the Powers above, they have the copper pot I need. 

I'm quickly on my way back, and I'm just passing the Chicago-Kent College of Law building when I recognize the same van that had been behind me at the store. 

I grip the bag with the pot tighter. I largely ignore them. I have to. 

I walk quicker. I have to.

The van pulls closer, and I murmur a prayer under my breath. I'm just being paranoid. That's all.

I grip the bag tighter still, feeling the weight. If need be, I can break this pot. On their heads. Better my cooking ware than my life.

There's sudden movements behind me and I swing the bag. I hear a clang as it connects with someone, and I start running. 

I don't get far before there's a weight on my back and they kick out my knee. 

I slam into the ground and they've knocked the wind out of me. Whoever it is starts dragging me, and I find myself on the floor of a cube van. 

I feel a sharp crack against the side of my head and I let my eyes close. 

I've already lost.

* * *

**Kelley **

I check the clock. He should have been back by now; he'd texted me the address of the store he was going to.

It's been forty minutes since he said he was on the way back. I call him for the fifth time, and this time it goes through. 

"Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" I ask before a voice that is certainly not Crockett's answers, with yelling in the background.

_"He's a little busy, try again later."_

They hang up.

I have so many questions but I can't think. Was he abducted? I press call again. 

_"You call again, it won't go well for anybody."_

"Wait!!" I call and there's questioning silence. "Is he there?" 

They hang up, but not before I could hear Crockett's voice, strained and wobbly in the background. 

They have him. They have my brother. I scramble and I punch in a number I've never had to use before.

The person on the other end picks up. 

"Kelley?" He asks, and I'm surprised I'm not crying. All I feel is rage. 

"Voight, I need your help. I'll be at the district in ten."

* * *

I stay on the phone, telling them what I know. I drive fast enough I should be pulled over. I race into the District, and Trudy's waiting for me. 

She comes up with me, and I'm taking two stairs at a time. 

I can't go slow. 

I need to find Crockett.

I burst into the Intelligence bullpen, and I see Voight sitting on a desk with the others gathered around the blackboard. 

I blink, and I feel like I've been punched in the stomach when I see the nearly empty board with Crockett's picture in the corner with "MISSING VICTIM" above it. 

Hank grabs my arms and pulls me into a chair. I blink and he's kneeling by me. 

"Gotta breathe, Marcks, come on." 

I realize the others have disappeared, leaving only Hank and Jay. 

I can't stop staring at the board, at his picture, and even as Jay rubs circles on my back, he's all I can see. 

We need to find him. 

Hank clicks his fingers in front of my eyes and I realize he's been trying to get my attention. 

"Kelley, come on now," he urges quietly and I finally drag my eyes to meet his. He looks worried. "From what you've told us, we went into the traffic cameras." He turns to the computer behind me and presses play. 

I can see a van pull up behind Crockett. I watch as my brother swings the bag in his hand into the man's head. 

I see him run. 

I also see the moment the asshole kicks out his bad knee and brings him to the ground. 

I watch as the asshole drags him into the van and pull away. I turn to Hank and I'm so angry I'm shaking. 

"We don't know who they are. I've sent Rojas and Atwater to talk to people in the area," he says, and his hand is still clamped down on my arm. 

I try to focus, and the fragile state of mind I had is shattered the moment he pulls me into a hug. I start crying into his shoulder, and he doesn't miss a beat. He just pulls me tighter.

"We're gonna find him. We will."

Trudy comes back in the room, and I hear Hank tell her something, I feel the rumble in his chest as I still cry. I can hear his heartbeat and I try to ground myself into the present. 

Jay's on the phone and talking to Trudy at the same time, and I'm hiccuping now as Hank keeps me steady. 

"I've got you, Kelley, we're gonna find him," he says and I finally pull away, wiping my eyes. 

What do I do if we can't?

* * *

**Crockett**

I regain my breath as I lay on the floor in the van, and I try to think. Have I seen these men before? 

I try to think.

One of them, I’ve seen him hang around Gaffney before. I don’t know why he was there. But I’m willing to bet that’s connected.

I hope Kelley can sound the alarm when I don’t return. 

My jacket is ripped off me, and I see the man pull out my phone. 

It’s ringing.

_Kelley._

He answers, and I can only hear his response.

"He's a little busy, try again later."

I shiver as I try to sit up, and he kicks me back down.

“Listen here-” he starts before my phone rings again. 

"You call again, it won't go well for anybody,” he growls, then pauses.

I can just barely hear Kelley’s voice and then he hangs up, throwing the phone to the floor.

He digs his shoe into my shoulder.

“Listen here, Marcel,” he warns. “You do what we need you to do, you can go. If not, you’re done.”

I don’t dwell on the threat. I dwell on the fact he knows my name. This is not good at all.

As I push myself up, his foot connects with the side of my head.

* * *

**Kelley**

I look again at the camera footage.

“Wait,” I say, leaning forward. I point to the one who tackles Crockett. “Him. He’s been hanging around Gaffney for a couple months or so.”

Hank says something to Jay, and plants a hand on my shoulder. “Anything else?”

I try to think. “No.” 

Hailey comes back. “Sarge, Rojas and Kevin got a hit.”

We move.

* * *

**Crockett**

I’m shoved to the ground when they open the van door, and I scramble up. There’s cold metal at the base of my neck, and I go where he points me. I’m shoved into a room, and my eyes land on a man, bloody and battered, on the floor. 

“You help him,” my captor tells me, and I swallow, feeling sick.

I move forward, my hand going to a pulse point. Rapid and thready. I start looking, and I find two bullet holes in his chest. My hands come away covered in blood, and I have to mentally switch my train of thought.

I’m a doctor.

This is my job.

“You have to let me bring him in,” I say, though I know they won’t even consider it. Sure enough, the gun is pressed back into my head, and I raise my hands.

"You do it here."

"Alright, alright," I say, and my hand goes back to the holes. "I need some cloth or something," I say, and some rags are tossed down beside me. As I press them into the wound I take stock of the amount of blood. 

He's losing way too much.

"He needs a transfusion," I say, frustrated, as I work. 

"He's not getting one."

"Then he _will _die," I snap, finally looking at the man. 

The gun falls directly in line with my eyes and I gulp at his words.

"Then you will too."

I force my eyes back to my patient. I have to work quickly, he's lost too much blood externally and internally. My hand goes to his pulse. 

I try again. 

I can't find it. 

I try another pulse point. 

I ignore the gun in my peripheral as I start CPR. 

"What are you doing?" The man asks me and I ignore him. "What the hell are you doing?" He asks again, and as I continue CPR, I try to answer.

"No- no pulse."

There's a sudden explosion of pain in the back of my head and I'm thrown forwards as the gun is whipped into my skull.

"You killed him!"

I sit up, my head aching as I continue to try chest compressions. 

Still no pulse.

There's a hand at the back of my collar dragging me backwards. I need to try and get him back and so I fight to get back.

I'm fighting for his life and my own.

I'm met with a boot to my face, and I feel myself crushed into the floor. 

"You killed him," my captor screams at me, and I can see the manic look in his eyes.

I draw a shaky breath, and steel myself for the bullet. 

It doesn't come. 

Instead I'm ripped off the ground and hauled to a chair. 

I don't know why, but I'm suddenly thrown back to when I was attacked outside Gaffney those months ago.

I'm still stunned by the ringing in my ears, and I don't see the punch coming.

A blow hits the base of my neck, and I slump over.

* * *

**Kelley**

They have an ID on one of the men, and as I ride shotgun in Voight's SUV, I can't help but wonder if it's already too late. 

Voight's been side-eyeing me, and finally he pulls over. I'm still staring out the window, lost in my head. 

When I feel Hank's hand on my arm I turn to look at him. 

He's focused, but he's worried. 

"Kelley, you need to call someone," he says, and I hesitate. "Kel, if you won't, I will."

I make no move to, so Hank reaches forwards to dial the number through his Bluetooth. The line is answered within seconds, and Hank doesn't even let her respond. 

"Kate, be ready to go. I'm picking you up. Apartment or university?"

_“Apartment,”_ Kate immediately says. _“Should I come packing, or what?”_

"We've got a case, and we need you on it with us. Don't bother with anything you don't need. This is fast paced and messy," Hank says, squeezing my shoulder. 

She pauses for a moment, and I hear a familiar clicking noise. She’s grabbed her own gun._ “I’ll be outside.”_

I look at Voight to see if he knows what she's doing. He just gives one curt nod and lifts his radio.

"Upton, Halstead, go support Rojas and Atwater. Marcks and I are calling in backup."

He pulls back into traffic, and we make it to the apartment in record time. He rolls down the window the second he pulls in the driveway.

"Get the hell in, let's go!" He calls to Kate. I give her one quick wave.

Kate jumps in, and she has a look on her face I’m not sure I’ve seen before. “What’s going on?” She says, looking directly forward. I think I recognize the expression. She’s at war.

Voight sees it. 

"Dr. Marcel's been abducted. We don't know why yet. But we have a hit on the ID of one of them. Figured we needed another pair of eyes. You ready for war, Gerwitz?"

He knows that she's ready to go. 

“Last known location? How many kli— how many blocks? Kelley?” She finally breaks when she says my name. “Kelley, the fuck happened?”

"I don't know," I say, and I don't. 

"He went to the store to get a new cooking pot and he never came back. I called him, someone else answered. I could hear Crockett in the background. I called Voight." 

“Good call,” she says, pulling her gun from her waistband. She sets it in her lap, not even worried about what the cop next to her might say. Her eyes dart through the Chicago streets, like if she doesn’t look, she might miss a clue. In a swift motion, she gathers her short hair into a ponytail and ties it back. “What’s the plan?” She says to Voight. 

"We go see if we can find these bastards and get our boy back," he says, and he veers off on a side street. He unclips his radio and tosses it to Kate. "50-21 Adam is the callsign. Keep on that radio."

She takes it and clips it to her coat. The army green peacoat looks disjunct against the Chicago cold. “Fill me in. What else do we know? Do we have any sort of location? Who would take a doctor? I’m assuming someone was wounded, they were tracking him, but for what? And how do we find him?”

"From what we know he was just beside Chicago-Kent Law, and they pulled him in the van. Took him down hard, stunned him enough to take him. There's been a guy hanging around Gaffney for a while, face matched to one of the abductors." He merges onto a main street before continuing. "We pinged his phone. It showed up in a warehouse in Canaryville. We're going there. Team's gonna meet us," he says, just as the radio crackles to life.

“Warehouse in Canaryville?” Kate says over the muffled radio. Instead, she activates it with a touch of her fingers. “50-21 Adam, that warehouse, is it on Morgan Street? Four bays, middle of nowhere?” 

_"Affirmative. Reason?" _

I turn to look at Kate, and I wonder what the hell. Voight says nothing but he pulls a violent u-turn back the other way. He steps on the gas, waiting for further direction. Kate seems to have an idea, and I think they’re both willing to use any means possible to finish this. 

“Careful on the approach. There’s a wide open parking lot for the warehouse to the south. Not sure about the sightlines.”

Voight says nothing until he announces we're a few minutes out. "Marcks, get on the floor and stay there. Kate, you too."

She checks her gun, making a show of cocking it and turning off the safety. “I’ll take cover outside and behind the car. I wouldn’t want to have to shoot through your windows, Hank.”

He seems to reconsider. "How far are you willing to see this through?"

“You know I’ll see this through to the bitter end.” 

"There's an extra vest under your seat. Put it on. You stick with me." He looks at her, face dead serious. "Just remember I'm the cop here."

Kate already grasps for the vest under the seat as she pulls off her coat. “I’m not here to get in your way. I’m here to protect Kelley and follow your orders. We can sort out the paperwork later if we have to,” she adds with a slight smirk. 

He shakes his head. "I've got the paperwork. Let's get our boy back." He pulls up on the street with a screech. "Marcks, get down. Gerwitz, let's go."

He watches the others pull up and he gathers them. I can barely see them out the window, and I'm trying to stay calm. 

* * *

**Crockett **

I'm crumpled on the floor, as far as I can tell. 

I couldn't save him. 

I couldn't save the one person I was supposed to.

I'm not dead yet, and I don't know why.

I try to roll over on my side, and my rib cage decides it's now the moment to announce their damage. 

I hear footsteps, and the man who grabbed me comes through the door.

"You bastard," he mutters, and decides to plant his boot square in my chest. 

I can't help the yell of pain, and I see stars. 

_Oh God, Kelley, I'm sorry. _ _I'm so sorry._

There's a kick to the side of my head, and I realize he's wearing steel toes. 

If I didn't have a concussion after the pots this morning, I do now.

As explosions of light explode in front of my eyes, they close.

* * *

**Kate**

I hop out of the SUV. I both love and hate the way I feel right now. It’s a familiar feeling, the rage, the gun in my hand. When we regroup about half a block away, I see Jay and Hailey approaching. Hailey looks slightly confused. Jay doesn’t. Jay’s pissed.

As the team convenes around Hank’s SUV, no one dares to say something about me, standing in a vest that says “POLICE” loudly on the front. I don’t know if it’s my expression, or Hank’s expression, but I’m ready to lead this fucking team into the warehouse myself.

Crockett doesn’t deserve this bullshit. He’s been through enough. I grip my gun even tighter. I know I have an extra clip in my pocket.

You’re not a cop, Kate. You’re not supposed to be involved in this. You’re going to follow Hank’s instruction to the letter. You're going to protect Kelley. That’s your job. 

I have to hold my breath in my chest. I love and hate this feeling.

"Rojas, Kevin, and Upton, be ready. Halstead you've got the long gun. Ruzek, be ready to bust down that door. Burgess, you stay with Adam, you do not leave his side, understand?" 

He looks at me, looks me over and nods. 

"Gerwitz, you're with me. They break down that door, you and I run point. You good?" 

I look to Kelley. She’s already slinking to the floor of the car. She’s fine. She’s going to be fine. 

“I’m behind you, Hank.”

He shakes his head, and he looks me in the eye. 

"No, Kate. You're _beside _me." He checks his gun before handing me a pair of nitrile gloves. "Put them on. Now."

I follow his orders silently. I know I’m not supposed to be here. Hank’s going to take care of me.

He nods to Ruzek, who's ready with the battering ram. 

"On my count. Let's go get our boy, folks. Let's go, Gerwitz."

Just like Afghanistan. Just like Iraq. I remember the training I had on the spot. This wasn’t something the Army taught me. 

I hold my hand on Hank’s shoulder, waiting for Ruzek with the battering ram on the side door to the warehouse. 

It’s only a matter of time.

But I catch my hand, my ring still glinting under my gloves. I should have called Greg. I should have told him.

He’ll find out in a great story later.

"3….2...1… go."

And the world explodes.

Hank jumps forward, his one hand on his radio, the other on his gun as Ruzek busts the door open.

"Come on," he says lowly, making sure I'm beside him. I stick half a step to his left, as he checks right, and I check left. There are blind spots upon blind spots, but I find the rhythm of the building easily. 

Each aisle of boxes and shelving units I check down, I whisper ‘clear’ to Hank. He continues forward, pushing forward, and I know we’re headed further and further into the building. 

I pray I’ve cleared it as I monitor his nine o clock. Hank is focused. He's deadly. 

He's plowing through this warehouse. He stops at a partially closed door. There's a yell from inside, a yell of _pain._

Voight's face goes from focused and pissed to downright murderous. 

I know I should follow orders. I know I should, after eight years of doing it, but at the sound of pain, I lunge towards the door.

Hank catches my arm, hauling me back. "We go in together, or not at all, Gerwitz."

He waits for me to acknowledge his command. I’m sure he can hear my panting breath. I’m nearly feral, but I nod once. 

“Yes, sir.”

He gives me one more look before he readjusts his weapon. "On three," he whispers, barely audible. 

One. Two. Three. 

He shoves open the door, and we're met with the sight of a nearly crazed man hauling Crockett limply off the floor, and shoving a gun into his neck.

Crockett's eyes meet ours, and he barely manages to hold back a sob. 

Hank meets my eyes. I know he sees my finger dance near my trigger. It’s a habit. It’s close. He’s never seen me shoot, but Crockett has. 

Crockett has.

I can’t be the one to shoot first, no matter what I do. I’m the outlier in this. This is wildly illegal, what Hank’s done, and I thank him for it. If not me, it would be Kelley, and none of us would stand for it.

At least if I die, I can die on my feet with a gun in my hand. So I do what I intended to do in the first place—protect Hank. 

And I await his instruction.

"Gun down, Gerwitz," he says, and he sees my hesitation. "Gun down!" he says again, slightly agitated. 

Crockett is barely standing, and the maniac holding a gun to his neck is the only thing keeping him off the ground. 

As Hank's gun goes down, his free hand goes up.

"You fucking point that thing again," the maniac growls, "your doctor dies. He's going to die anyway. It's your choice how long you want him to last."

At his words, Crockett's eyes close in pain. I resist. I’ve moved my gun down, sure, but his words make me ever so slightly pulse my arms. 

This isn’t my show. This isn’t my deal. I hear my own breath hitch as I wait for Hank.

"Listen. You gotta let my man there go," Hank says evenly, holstering his gun where he can still grab it easily. 

"Oh hell no," comes the angry reply. "He killed my buddy. He did jack shit. He failed at the one thing he was supposed to do, he's gonna fucking die." He jams the gun deeper into Crockett’s throat, ignoring the gasp. "If you keep talking, you're gonna be the reason I kill him sooner," he warns.

Hank looks to me, motioning for me to lower my gun further. 

I almost don’t listen. Hank glares at me. I think about it for a moment. I’m a very good shot. I could take him out. 

But God, I don’t need Hank trying to clean up that mess. 

I lower my gun about three more inches.

"Listen, Peters," Hank says again, and now I have a name. "Listen, you're not the ringmaster here. This ain't your show. This only works if you let my man go."

Peters falters, and Hank steps in front of me. He keeps talking him down, but his hand is behind his back. He unholsters his weapon and holds it out to me.

Hank Voight. Oh, Hank. He has always known me at a spiritual level, something even Jay or Mouse would never understand. There’s always been that darkness eating inside of me. Maybe… maybe not a darkness, but a bright light, wanting to rid the world of the real darkness. 

And sometimes that meant doing dark things.

The gun is in my hand and I shield myself behind him, slipping my own gun in my waistband. It’s not much different than mine. Sig Sauer. I smirk. Not your typical cop Glock. Not your typical cop.

I flex my fingers around it. I know what he intends to do. I know what he intends to let me do. I latch onto the light pulsing heavily in my chest, a reminder that this isn’t the darkness.

Just a dark thing.

Hank snaps his fingers, both a tacit approval and a sign that shit's starting to get serious.

Peters' finger is on the trigger. Crockett is in the line of his gun. Crockett's lips are moving, a silent Hail Mary.

“Hank?” I whisper quickly. He knows what it means. He knows what I’m saying, what I would ask had I been still in the Sandbox. 

_Sir, can I take the shot._

"Granted," he whispers back.

I let out my breath. In the moment before I breathe in again, I raise the Sig Sauer, aim, and press down on the trigger.

I’ve never felt time stop. I’ve never really felt that moment go on forever. But I always feel the aftermath.

There's a double shot.

I know I've only shot once.

Hank is unarmed. 

I see the aftermath when Peters stumbles backward and Crockett slides to the floor.

I step forward desperately, kicking the gun away from Peters’ hand. I’m about ready to double-tap, but there’s no need. He’s got a bleeding hole in his head right between his eyes. 

Desperately, desperately, I pass the gun back to Hank and drop on my knees in front of Crockett. He’s in agony. I see blood, but it’s all I can do to scramble to find the wound.

“Crockett, you’re okay,” I hear myself muttering. It’s the aftermath. I know it’s the aftermath, because I feel like I’m moving through water. I can’t find the blood. “You’re okay, Crockett, you’re okay.”

I shut my eyes tight. The gunfire was so goddamn loud. I haven’t heard a live bullet go off since… since 2016. Casimir Pulaski Day. Don’t. Don’t go back there. 

I open my eyes. Breathe. In, and out. What does Dr. Charles say? Just breathe. Focus on your breaths. Focus on… focus on Crockett’s breaths. 

“‘Kett, you’re okay,” I keep muttering. And then I find it. I lift up his shirt and see the slash of the bullet, taking skin and muscle with it as it sliced into him. I kneel down, pulling his head into my lap, and my hand immediately covers the bleeding. I put pressure on the wound. That’s all I can do right now. 

That’s all I can do. 

Hank is beside me, radio in his hand. 

"50-21 Adam, requesting a bus be rolled to our location. Target is down in self defence. We have a victim, GSW to the upper abdomen. Hurry up, he's one of our own."

He drops the radio, placing a hand on my shoulder, and his other going for Crockett's pulse.

He feels for it in his wrist. He’s not coming up looking pleased. I slip my fingers to his neck. 

No. C’mon, ‘Kett. He's losing blood, fast. Hank moves my hand from the wound to look. 

He clicks on his flashlight for a better look, and goes for his radio. 

"50-21 Adam, I need a rush on that bus, he's fading fast. Notify Gaffney to get their second best trauma surgeon on board." He drops the radio and turns back to the wound. "God knows their best is bleeding out," he says almost inaudibly.

“It’s a ten minute drive from Blue Island Avenue in the best case,” I say to Hank. “Another ten minutes back to Gaffney. I don’t know… I don’t know if he’s got a half hour.”

He thinks for barely a second. He checks for a pulse again.

"Weak, thready, probably internal bleeding… Kate, your hands are gonna get dirty, are you ready for that?" He asks urgently, but it's not just about blood. He wants to know if I'm ready for what comes next.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” I say hoarsely. “Tell me what to do.”

He says nothing but guides my gloved hand over the wound. His own hands move to Crockett's shoulder and free arm. 

"Dig your hand into the hole, keep pressure," he mutters. "I think he's too deep under to hit you, but I'll hang onto him. If this works, we need to get him to the car."

I hesitate. Not because I don’t want to do it. No. I look at the wound once more, and try to see where the majority of the blood is coming from. That’s where I aim when I plunge my hand inside, searching for whatever got nicked.

His skin is going pale.

Voight swears when he realizes that he's too far gone to react to the pain. His hand goes back to the pulse point.

"Come on, Marcel, don't play us like this," he mutters, and he's getting more anxious. 

He looks up at me as he waits for something.

“What?!” I ask frantically. “What should I do? Hank, don’t do me like this. Tell me what to do.”

Hank gasps in relief as he pulls his hand away. 

"Pulse is stabilizing, Kate we gotta move him _now. _"

With my free hand-- the hand that isn’t currently holding some sort of nicked artery or blood vessel or whatever the fuck is in your side—I cradle Crockett’s head and wait for Hank to make a move.

“Hank, you gotta get Kelley out of here. She can’t see him like this.”

Hank reaches for his comm link to the team. "Rojas, Atwater, get outside, get Marcks from my vehicle and get on the road to Med. Scratch that. Halstead, you go. Upton, you too. Rojas, Atwater, once they're gone, pull my car right to the door. Move!"

He looks at me, and slips an arm under Crockett's shoulders, and another under his knees. "Kate, you've gotta keep alongside. You need to keep the pressure steady."

He spares a glance at Peters' body, and looks away quickly in disgust. 

"Leave the bastard. Let's move. Slowly, now."

I follow his instructions. I move slowly, like Hank told me, alongside as we try to get Crockett out of that fucking warehouse.

Warehouses. Why is it always a warehouse?

Stop thinking. You’ve got to do this, KC. 

That’s a name I haven’t thought for a while.

I can’t let myself drift down that snow encased highway. I can’t let myself slide down that dirty Afghanistan road. That aisle in an abandoned, fiery church.

Hank moves as smoothly as he can, trying to keep me alongside him. 

He looks down once, and when he sees the relatively young face, he drives his eyes back up, and I've never seen that particular look of pain cross through Hank's eyes before.

“I know, Hank. I know. We’ve been here before, but we’re not going to go down…” I swallow hard. I almost feel like I’m going to throw up. “We’re not going to go down this road again, right? Right, Hank?!”

I’m frantic. I have my hand inside my friend’s—no, my brother’s—body, stopping him from bleeding to death. 

“I’m not letting him die, Hank.” My voice comes out gruff, almost feral. He doesn't reply. 

We break out into daylight, and Voight lays Crockett in the backseat. I follow, crouching on the floor to keep my hand in place. 

Hank gruffly kicks Rojas out of the driver's seat. With a shouted instruction for the team to get to Gaffney, he pulls off, tires screeching. 

He drives like a maniac. He's taking side streets, running lights. He's broken every damn rule in the book today.

I hear him shouting over his radio, and I catch the words "cancel that bus, en route now."

"Kate, how you doing back there?" He asks as he runs another light.

I check his pulse. “Stable, but keep haulin’ ass,” I say. “C’mon, Crockett. C’mon. You and I have been through too much shit already. You can’t do this to me. I need you, okay? Get through this. I have your back, ‘Kett. I got you.”

Hank tears into the ED lane, and parks. He rips open the back door. 

"Kate, hand out. I've got him. Let's haul ass." He picks him up, and practically is running now. 

I can't help but follow behind. I know there’s still blood on my hands, on my gloves. I hope to God it’s not my fault that he got shot.

Should I have not taken Hank’s gun? No. This line of thinking is fucking useless. 

I chase after them, seeing him get set down on a gurney. The cry of “Baghdad” is enough to send me into panicked shocks. 

It’s coming for me. I hear it, in the back of my mind, but I have to fight it off. 

I can’t hear anything right now. No, get out of it. Go. Fucking leave my mind alone. When I push past the haze, I realize I’m standing near the nurse’s station, warily looking to Maggie. I’m panting. I’m sweating. Crockett’s blood is on my hands.

In the corner of my eye I see Hank, and April is bodily pushing him out of the room so they have room to work. 

And he just lets her. He's shoved into the hall, and he pushes his hands into his pockets, staring at the room.

Maggie is beside me. 

"Kate?" 

Will.

I’m just holding out my hands. They’re covered in blood. They’re still covered in Crockett’s blood. 

“Will, I... “ I’m realizing what’s happening. The immediate shift from what I was doing just an hour ago to this. The insane move from living my daily life to infiltrating an unfriendly location, taking out a perp, and holding my hand against the organs of a friend to keep him alive. 

My breath, the one thing I had control over before, comes too quickly. I’m hyperventilating, my brain reminds me. Sure, the logic part is right, and is telling me to stop, but the rest of my body doesn’t seem to get the message. 

“I tried to stop it. I tried. I tried to… to stop it, but I couldn’t…”

The room starts to spin and the sickly shade of green starts inching around my periphery.

"Oh my god," Will whispers. "They said one of their own, and I thought it was Jay, but…" He has so much more he wants to ask but instead he pulls me into his arms. "Kate, you did your best. You tried. You kept him alive."

Hank is shouting something.

I start to push past Will. If Hank is yelling, something is going wrong. 

April and Doris are holding him back, and I see the look on Choi's face. The look on Lanik's. There's outright fear. 

And there's the defibrillator in Lanik's hands. The logic part of me tells me to stay back. 

The emotional part forces me past Will and towards the room as the defibrillator’s noise echoes through the ED. 

Hank is yelling, trying to shove past April and Doris. Maggie is standing at the nursing station, her hands to her mouth. 

Lanik has passed the defibrillator to Choi and is on the gurney. Cracking ribs. 

I force myself to stay back. Don’t go to Baghdad. You’re not needed there. You’re needed here. Right here. Right… right here. 

“Will?” I ask quietly. So quietly, my voice cracks. “Can I wash my hands?”

Will nods, still shocked as hell. He seems rooted to the spot. "Want…. Want me to come?"

I nod. I don’t even know where to go. He leads me by the elbow to the sink just outside the ED. 

It's quieter.

He stays beside me.

I pull off the gloves, toss them into the bin. Shakily, I pull off my rings— my wedding band and engagement ring, my claddagh. I can see my hands shaking as I reach to hand them to Will. There’s still blood on my skin, my wrists. I start scrubbing. I scrub until my skin is raw. 

"Kate," Will finally says. "That's enough."

He places his hand over mine. 

I take the welcome touch, and he helps me slip my rings back on to my fingers. I can’t do it myself. I’m shaking too much. 

Will moves forward and hugs me again, and I awkwardly return it. 

"Coming through, let's go!" 

The doors bust open. Lanik is still on the bed, pumping Marcel's chest, and his hands are slick with blood as Choi and the nurses push them past us. 

From behind me, I hear a quiet "Oh God." I turn, and Kelley's standing in the hallway. Jay rounds the corner behind her. 

Her eyes go dead. 

"Kate-" she starts, but gets no farther as Jay pushes her into a chair. 

It's so quiet. There's no yelling coming from the ED. Only the normal sounds, and the absence of angry shouts. 

Will looks at me. So does Jay.

For a moment, I freeze. I don’t know what to do. Between Kelley and the ED staff and Hank and Crockett—

“Kelley, just listen to me. Hank… we did our best. I—I did my best. He’s here now. He’s… he’s…”

My voice starts to crack, and I grasp onto Jay. 

The rush of adrenaline hits me like a 2 x 4 to my ribs, like a gunshot to my knee, like a stab to my heart. 

But I have to stay upright. For her.

Jay holds me up. Kelley looks up at me before pushing herself out of the chair. 

Her arms go around me carefully. "I've got you, Kate. It's okay. I got you." 

She doesn't know all of what went down.

I don’t know what I should say. I don’t know what Hank’s story is going to be. I look up to Jay, waiting for some sort of instruction. I’m not used to this kind of deception. 

Jay shakes his head. _Say nothing _, is what he seems to tell me. 

As if on cue, the door opens and an exhausted Hank Voight slips through. He leans heavily on the wall, surveying all of us. He looks at me and gestures to walk with him. Jay reaches out and pulls Kelley in a hug, and Will does too. 

Hank starts walking down the hall, waiting for me.

He stops a ways off, but doesn't turn around. He just waits.

I follow after, making sure my shirt is hiding my gun in my waistband. Mine. Not his. I hope no one saw it when we came in. If they did, they didn’t say anything. Still. I have to be cautious. 

I should call Greg. I should… I should follow after Hank. And I do. He continues around the corner and into the frozen courtyard. He turns to look at me. 

"Are you okay?" He asks hoarsely.

“I’ll be okay when Crockett’s okay,” I say, rapping my fingers against my arm. My hand finds my necklace. I wind it over my fingertips. “What are we going to do? What’s the story here, Hank?”

He shoves his hands into his pockets, but I catch the shakiness before he does. 

He looks up at the sky, frowning at the twilight clouds. He goes to speak then rethinks. "We're not gonna be okay for a while, then," he says bleakly, and he's quiet for a moment.

“He can survive that, Hank,” I whisper. “He could survive this. People survive wounds like that all the time. Hank, I survived a day and a half with a bullet wound through my chest. I survived. Why the hell wouldn’t he? We were there! We… we were there, Hank. I was there for him.” 

Every time I breathe, I feel like I’m taking some from Crockett. I try to hold my breath for a second, but I can’t get myself to stop. Stop, Kate. Stop.

Hank doesn't miss it. He pulls me down on a bench and pulls me close. His own breaths are ragged, and he just holds me. 

He doesn't speak. I don't think he can.

But I’m focused. I have to focus. If I focus, I can push through.

“Okay. Okay, Hank. What’s the story? I need to know the story so we can keep it straight.”

I still clutch onto him tightly. I find myself staring off into the snow.

"You were there as backup. Trudy’s changing the records so that you're a third party consultant. Peters came at us and I shot the bastard. It's my gun, my prints on the trigger, and my ballistics." He takes a breath. "When they question you, and they will, you need to push aside your friendship with Marcel. As far as Internal Affairs goes, you don't know him from a hole in the ground."

He's deathly still, and his voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

“I can do it. I can. I’ll focus on the Canaryville aspect. I knew where you were going. I was familiar with the location. I led you to where you needed to go. I’ve got the experience. I was never in the building. I waited outside. We… I got this, Hank. I seriously do. I’m more worried about Crockett.”

He looks at me finally. "I know. Once you give your statement, I'll take care of the rest. I'll handle it." He goes quiet, and then he looks at me once more. His face is serious. "They passed you in the hall?" 

“I… I don’t know, Hank. I don’t know. I didn’t see. I was… I was more concerned about Crockett and… I had blood all over my hands. I didn’t know. I didn’t see.”

He's agitated. 

"Transport left not long before I came into the hallway, Kelley was there when I got there. Kate…." He doesn't want to know. "Did Kelley see him?"

“I… I don’t think so. I would have known. She would have reacted. She… she didn’t seem like she had.” Talking about Kelley helps. It helps, because I don’t have to think about myself. “She would have flipped out, Hank.”

He nods. "Kate… I'm glad you were there. He needed you there." He's messing with the edge of his vest, he never even took it off.

“I was going to be there,” I say almost absentmindedly. “He needed me. I came. I… I should call Greg. I don’t… I don’t know what to do, Hank.”

He pulls out his phone and dials Greg before I can say anything more. He clicks on speaker phone and holds it out between us. 

He answers almost immediately. “_Uh, Voight? What’s up?”_

I freeze. I can’t answer, and I find myself staring off into the rest of the city. He has no idea. He has no clue what happened. I almost want to leave him in the dark.

But the dark breeds dark.

Hank grasps my hand almost painfully. "Mouse. We've got a situation at Med. Kate's with me. She's safe. Think you can get down here quick?"

_“Shit,”_ he says under his breath. _“Should I come packing, or…?”_

Voight barely winces at the wording. "Just get here."

_“I’ll be there. Five minutes.” _And the line hangs up. 

I don’t know what’s worse, telling him on the phone or telling him to his face. Regardless, I don’t know if I can even feel. 

“I want to go check on Crockett,” I whisper. “Please.”

Hank shakes his head. "Not now. He's in surgery." 

“Then Kelley. Or Jay. I don’t care. I need to… I need to check on someone.” 

He nods, checking his phone. "Jay's in the hallway. Will took Kelley to the waiting room."

“Hank, I need to do something. I need to do something. I can’t just sit here and—and not do something.”

I feel myself going once more. The dark is just so familiar. "Kate, come on. Let's go find Jay. Come on, Gerwitz." He's pulling my hand to follow him. "Let's go."

Hank grasps tightly to my hand, forcing me back. He forces me back with his touch, and I’m not sure where we’re going. I don’t want to lose it in the ED, so I just… follow. I follow. 

He pulls me back into the deserted hallway, and stops when we see Jay sitting on the floor against the wall, fiddling with his radio. 

"Halstead," Hank said, his voice low. It’s everything I can do to not just… drop. I slide down the wall next to him like all the bones had slipped out of my body. 

“I’m sorry, Jay. I shouldn’t have gone in. I should have let you both do your job.”

He shakes his head, still staring at the floor. "You weren't supposed to be there. Kate, what if you'd been killed, what the hell would I tell Mouse?"

Now I’m pissed. This is familiar. I can slip into this darkness. “What the hell do you think I was going to do? Hank called. I answered. That’s what I do. If I had been killed….. you know what? I wouldn’t have. I wouldn’t. I trust Hank and I trust you. I would request that you show me the same courtesy. You know me better than that.”

He finally looks at me, and there's anger in his eyes. He glares up at his sergeant. "You did this, you put her in the line of fire. She's a goddamn civilian, and you put her in the crosshairs! The hell?" He stares at me. 

"You should've had the sense to say no. You're both insane."

“I have done this before, and I’ll fucking do it again,” I hiss. “You fought me before, and more girls died because of it. I stopped _your _serial killer. And you know full well I’m the furthest from a civilian. God damn, Jay. Get your head out of your own ass.”

Jay scrambles up off the floor and ignores me. He gets into Hank's face. 

"She could've died, and you would've been the one who signed the order! She's not supposed to be there, and you let her go on a damn op?" Jay's furious, and Hank just stares at him from where's he's backed into the wall. 

"Internal Affairs could send you up the creek for this!" And then Jay drops something that makes me gasp. "And if IAB comes sniffing, maybe I shouldn't stop them."

"What the _fuck _is going on?" I see Greg, wandering up the hallway, looking more and more concerned with each step. 

“Did you take Kate on an op?” He accuses. “Kate, did you go on an unsanctioned op? Why the hell would Jay rat you out to IAB?”

Hank's eyes are sparking. "He wouldn't rat Kate out, Gerwitz. He means me." 

He stares at Jay, his back to the wall still, but his quiet anger is almost palpable. 

"Halstead, stand the fuck down,” and his voice is low but acidic. “I suggest you shut the hell up, too."

He looks to Greg. "Mouse," he greets finally with a nod, almost as an afterthought. 

“I’m fine, Greg,” I say. “Everything is fine. I was helping. They needed someone who knew Canaryville. Crockett…” I find myself drifting again. 

"Crockett?" Greg asks, stepping forwards. "He okay?" He's hanging on to hope.

Hank pushes off the wall, shoving Jay out of the way as he moves to stand just behind me, a half step to the right. 

Silent support.

“I don’t know yet. He got… he got shot. They’re doing their best. I… I did my best. I… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It moved so fast. It was so fast.”

"Holy… holy shit," Greg mutters before wrapping me in his arms.

"Kate, oh God, I'm sorry."

I fall into him, and for the first time since this happened, I feel grounded. His hand rubs on my back, and I realize I’m still wearing the police vest. Immediately, I rip it off, tossing it to Jay. It’s all I can do to simply glare at him rather than say anything. I’ll let someone else escalate. For now, I need to breathe. 

Jay catches it in surprise, but he stays quiet for now. 

Mouse holds me. I'm here. I'm present.

And then Hank's phone rings. And doesn't stop. 

I wait. I’m suddenly terrified. It could be any number of things. I clutch onto Mouse, trying not to make eye contact with Jay.

Hank picks it up.

"Daniel?" His voice wobbles. He beckons to me to come closer. "Dr. Charles," he whispers. "Upstairs waiting room, now," he says.

I obey. I obey without a second thought. I’m following him through the hallways to the waiting room before I even realize it. I don’t know if I can face him right now, but I can’t turn him or Hank away. Dr. Charles is waiting there, standing nearby, face grave, as Kelley is sobbing into Will's shoulder. He's holding her as she's crumpled into him. They're on the floor.

Hank almost stops and turns around where he is. He wants to run. 

But now? I stand between him and the exit. He can’t run from this. None of us can. 

“Dr. Charles?” I say, my voice shaking. “Tell me straight. What happened. How’s Crockett.”

I keep my eyes forward. In a moment, I realize I’ve slipped into parade rest. I don’t look at Kelley or Will. I ignore the weeping. I ignore it all. 

"He's lost a lot of blood. He's out of surgery, but still pretty unstable. We've replaced almost his entire blood volume."

He looks me in the eye before looking to Hank. 

"He has about a 30-60 shot of making the morning if he doesn't stabilize soon."

Hank sits down, and he keeps his eyes on the floor. I see the look on his face. It’s a familiar look. I’ve seen it at Landstuhl. I’ve seen it on the battlefield. It’s the look of a warrior who’s nearly given up. I’ve seen it before. I’ve worn it, too. 

He’s lost too many people already. He can’t lose anymore.

“What can we do?” I ask. Dr. Charles looks over me, taking a long look, and he steps around to me. He rests his hand on my shoulder. My tense shoulder. I brush his hand away, but in the meantime, I fall out of parade rest. 

“At ease,” he barely whispers. Just loud enough for me to hear. “Kate, take it easy.”

Jay stands beside me. He's still obviously angry, but he's shoved that aside. 

Greg is nearby. Hank is lost to the world.

I do what I have to do. I sit down next to Hank, and I touch his arm. I can reach Will. I look to Jay, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. 

I can hear Kelley. I can hear her, but I speak over her. “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee…”


	17. Never Gonna Let You Take My World From Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate goes after the man who kidnapped Crockett. She had to. She made an oath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formerly under the title "Off the Street."

**Kelley**

I hear Kate. I can hear her, and it feels like I'm shattering. I gained a brother, then a family. And now I'm losing my brother. 

I should have hope but I don't know if I can. I hear Kate, and I weakly reach up a hand to her knee. 

The connection both steadies me and breaks me apart. I wait for Kate to finish, and I reach up to her, Will's hand still on my back. 

Kate gets to her feet, almost refueled after the prayer. She runs her hands through her hair, trying to breathe. 

I struggle to my feet, stumbling into Kate, and I wrap my arms around her tightly. I'm clinging to her. 

She's my link. She's family. God knows we need to stick together. 

"Kate," I whisper. 

She pulls me close, tighter than normal. “I’m so sorry I left you in the car,” she whispers. “I didn’t want you to have to see that.”

I sob once. "What happened? Katie, what happened?" 

I need to know. I shouldn't, but I need to.

"You may see him, if you want." Dr. Latham's voice is clipped, and an exhausted Lanik stands beside him.

I look at Kate. "I can't," I whisper. "I can't go in there, Kate. I can't do it."

She straightens. “I’ll go. Is he… is he awake?”

"Not yet," Lanik says quietly. "He should be soon. We're hoping, considering the situation that caused this, he won't be alone when he does wake up."

Kate lets go, and I’m sad to see her leave, but she walks off after Lanik in what seems like a haze. 

I know she's got our brother.

* * *

**Crockett**

The first thing I know is pain. Pain in my head, in my side. My throat. I open my mouth and I cough. I try to force my eyes open, and I see a blurry shadow in a chair beside me. 

Everything hurts.

The blurry figure moves. I hear her speak, but it takes a moment to sink in. Kate’s voice. 

“Crockett, it’s Kate. You’re at Gaffney. You’re safe.”

"K- Kate…?" I manage, my voice hoarse. 

"You're here…" 

My head pounds but I try to reach for her. The only thing that happens is that my hand twitches weakly.

She grasps my hand tightly. “How much do you remember?”

I try to think, and it hurts. "There… I was… Grabbed. I needed to fix someone," I wince. "Couldn't save him."

I look to her, confused. "You were there… Voight."

“Don’t….. don’t tell anyone I was there,” she whispers, almost frantically. “You can’t. I wasn’t there, okay?”

I nod, wincing as vertigo hits me. I shut my eyes, thinking. "What happened?" I ask hoarsely.

Kate opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “This is the truth. The one you cannot tell. You were kidnapped to try to save some asshole’s life. You couldn’t. They were going to kill you. Kelley called Voight. Voight called me. I helped him find the location you were being held at. And he let me come in.”

She sighs. She strokes my fingertips. “Voight gave me his gun. When he was about to shoot, I shot him. But he got off a shot before I dropped him. We…. I… we stopped the bleeding best we could, and got you here.”

I try to look at her. "Thank you," I whisper. I take note of the pain in my side. "How bad….?" I ask softly.

“Uh, don’t mean to be…. I…. Crockett, it wasn’t good. Kelley is a basket case. We didn’t… we weren’t sure. We weren’t sure if you were gonna make it.”

I take a moment. "If my calcu…. Calculations are right," I grunt as I try to shift my weight. "Either the bastards broke my ribs." I look at her, squeezing her hand. "Or I crashed."

“Uhh, I don’t know what happened before we got there, but yeah. You crashed. But you’re back.”

I grip her hand as snippets of the ordeal start hitting me. "Steel toed boots," I mutter, and I feel a familiar pain in my chest.

“Hey. Hey, stick with me, ‘Kett. You’re safe. You’re here. By God, I made sure of that.”

I run my free hand over the bandage on my side, and I gently peel off the adhesive so I can see. I hiss as the skin gets pulled, and I'm almost sick when I see the wound. 

"Kate!" I gasp, grasping at her hand.

“How about we don’t do that,” she says, gently pulling my hand away and resealing the bandage. “I worked too hard for you to ruin it now.”

I look at her, and I see the look in her eyes. "You kept pressure on it," I say slowly, thickly. "Kate, this is a wound that…"

Oh God. 

She had to stop the bleeding.

She was literally holding me together. 

She kept me from bleeding out. 

My breath speeds up, and I _am _sick now. "You- I'm so sorry-"

“No. Stop. There was no question, ‘Kett. No question. You’re here because—“ she stops mid sentence. She realizes where she was going with it, but for some reason, couldn’t finish it. 

"You're not hurt?" I ask anxiously, still reeling from the revelation of my friend -my sister- physically holding my guts in place as I bled out in her hands.

"Kate," I ask again, looking her over as best as I can through the tears in my eyes. "You're not hurt?"

“What? No. I’m fine. Just. God, I was so scared. When Voight called me… what was I even doing? I was…. I was grading papers. I think. I don’t even remember now. No, I’m fine. I’m fine.”

She keeps repeating it like she’s trying to convince herself. "Is anybody else hurt?" I ask, still checking her over even as it feels like a cattle prod has been shoved into my side.

I'm gripping her hand so hard I'm surprised she hasn't said anything. There's so much pain, and it's stealing my breath, but I need to be _sure _everyone's okay.

“We’re all okay. And you’re going to be okay, too.” She looks a bit frustrated, but it slips away, like she had something else to say but it wasn’t as important as telling me that everyone is okay.

"Kate," I say, knowing she has more to say. I push past the burning. "What's wrong?" 

“You need to worry about yourself for once.” She says so sharply, almost angrily. “Please. There’s the rest of us out there, and we are fine, and I just…. we all need you. We need you, and I… I killed for you, Crockett. Take that as a sign. And I would do it again if I have to. Because it’s you. We are fine. We’re concerned for you.”

I'm taken aback by the sharpness, and I can't help the tears that prick my eyes. "I'm sorry," I say softly, and the guilt begins to crush my chest.

She killed for me. 

She had left that life behind, and it's done nothing but followed her.

And now that darkness has struck again. 

“This is not about me,” she whispers. “This was never about me. I… I took an oath. I took an oath when I was 22 years old. ‘I, Kaitlyn Elen Cavanagh, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.’ So help me God. You don’t just turn your back on that even though you get out. My friend was in danger. I took out the danger. End of story. Hell yeah, I took him out. And I would do it again. I would do it again,” she repeats at a whisper.

I can't help the sudden sob that comes from my mouth, and my side suddenly kills me, but somehow I know I'm safe, and the guilt, and it's just so complicated. 

Kate was willing to jump in headfirst, and she did. 

“You’re going to try to make yourself feel guilty,” she says, staring off into space. “You’re going to want people to not be involved in this. But you’re going to get to a point where you realize that you can’t push away the people who want to help you. No matter how hard you try. This was… this was a freak accident. A shit storm. You weren’t… you couldn’t have anticipated this. No one can. But you can anticipate that people are going to come and help. You don’t have to apologize to me. You never have. I do what I need to do. And you needed me.”

"Thank you," I whisper, squeezing her hand.

It's quiet for a moment, and I find myself slowly gripping her hand harder. I'm uncomfortable, and I'm willing to stake money on the fact something is not right. 

I can't tell what. I try to get her attention.

She’s immediately on her feet. “I pushed you too hard,” she mutters. “Lanik!” She cries. “Get your ass in here!”

I see Lanik skid in the doorway, and he looks at me. 

"Kate," he says. "What the hell's going on?" He asks as he checks the monitor.

He's lowering the bed, and as he prods my side I can't help the scream. Kate holds her hands up, almost in shock, stepping back from the table as she tries to figure out what’s happening. And she looks terrified. I’ve never seen her that scared before.

Lanik is doing things… I don't know what. I can hear him half-shouting. All I know is that pain is all I can feel. Pain and panic. And blackness. 

* * *

**Kate**

I have no idea what happened. Lanik, though, he seems to know. Maybe. Noises, colors flash. They almost set me off. I struggle backwards, clashing into the glass with a thud. 

“Lanik, what do you need,” I say calmly, betraying my internal screaming. He's staring at the screen and looks up at me. 

"I need help," he says as he pulls together the portable ultrasound. "He's bleeding into the abdomen, it could be his stomach. I don't know."

“I… I should get a nurse or something—” I start, but he shakes his head.

“No time.” He throws his pager over. "Call for Latham. Tell him we're on the way up to an OR." He's half-panicked, but he brings up the rails. "We're transporting now. Help me."

I immediately navigate through that damn pager, finding my way through until I can page Latham. And with that, I grab onto the bed and do what I’m told.

We push the bed out the door, and we pass the others. Hank is pressed against the wall to let us pass. Kelley is sandwiched between Jay and Will.

Don’t make eye contact. I can’t look at Kelley. I won’t. I can’t. I just move faster. Hank is suddenly beside me, his own hands on the rails. He's moving along with us, picking up speed. 

But that's not enough to muffle the sound of Kelley's wail behind us, even as we leave the ICU, doors swinging behind us.

I follow Lanik. I follow his lead, and he’s running back to the OR. I don’t know how far I can go, but I’ll go as far as I can.

There's a sudden brush against my fingers, and I see Crockett, barely moving. His eyes, barely open, hit mine.

I grasp his hand. “Hey. You gotta go back into surgery. You’ve got this, Crockett. Come home to us. To Kelley. Okay?”

His eyes slip shut again, and Lanik finally speaks. "We gotta go; Kate, Voight, end of the road. I'll come see you when I can."

He hauls the bed into the OR. I start pacing. I’m pissed now. I’m pissed.

“Hank, were there more?” I start. “Were there more men? Did we get them all? I want to go after them. I want… I want…”

I’m reeling when I realize I’ve violently kicked a trash can, sending it flying on its side. The metallic noise echoes down the hall.

“I want this over, Hank.”

He's leaning on the wall. 

"There's the driver," he says, not looking at me. "Just caught half his face on the camera, he escaped when we busted in." 

I already start walking towards the door. I see Jay, I see Will. I see a still weeping Kelley. I see Mouse, comforting Kelley on the floor. I see them all, and I can’t stop walking past them. 

I want blood. Not mine. Not Crockett’s. The man who attacked him. 

Hank has to jog to catch up to me, and he snags my vest from the chair beside Jay. 

As he walks down the hallway, he passes it to me. 

A silent approval. A tacit agreement.

We break out into the night, lit by the streetlamps. Hank pushes me towards his vehicle, and he says nothing until we're in. 

“What do you know?” I ask, pulling my gun from my waistband. I hated having it there. I want it in my hand. “Did you find this guy yet?”

He kicks the car into gear, kicking up loose gravel as he takes off. 

"Trudy's got us something. We need to see her." He chances a look at me. "You good?"

I set my jaw. “Get us to Trudy.” I cock my gun. He takes off, pulling up behind the district. Trudy's leaning against her car, and jogs over to us with a file.

"I ran the van's plates. Reported stolen two days ago." Hank nods, scanning through the file.

She looks at me, and her eyes soften. "How you doing, kid?"

“I’m fine,” I say. “What information do you have?” I can hear my own breathing. I’m aware of it. I can’t do this now. I have to focus.

Hank throws the file at me, summarizing it. "Plates showed stolen, we have a face match on the cams to the the partial face of the driver. Name's Harold Carver. 39 years old, mixed up in gangs." 

He looks to me, to gauge my reaction. I squint. I swear I’ve heard that name before. “What are his priors?”

"B&E, assault, burglary, he's a shithead," Trudy says carelessly. "His address is in there, if you want it."

I grab it, not even letting Hank look at it. I scan the address. “I know where this is,” I say, handing the file back to Trudy. I’m already on my way back to the car.

Hank gets in, looking at Trudy. "Plan FUBAR," he says lowly, and she nods. 

"Be safe, you two," she says as Hank closes the door. Out of habit, she pounds twice on the window, and Hank pulls off. 

“What’s the game plan? Do you know about this asshole?” 

Hank shakes his head. "I knew as much as you did until Trudy gave us that. Kate, what do you want to do here? Do we hunt him and gun him down? You want answers? What do you want? This is off books, completely.

“I want answers first,” I say. “What happens after is up to him.”

He sets his jaw, and nods. 

"How far out are we?" He asks, turning down a side street. "I know the general area, but you're my map here."

“45th Street. Close to Davis Square Park. Back of the Yards, ish. Shit hole of an area. I should know. Not far from Canaryville. Go south. Pick up Ashland, you'll run into 45th eventually. Past the Damen Silos.”

His foot just barely grazes the brakes, and he recovers quickly. He side eyes me. 

"The hell…" He asks, under his breath.

“You good, Hank?” I say. As we head out, we already hit the bridge. I can see, off to the southwest, the silos I had mentioned. I know that years—maybe decades now—ago, there was a painted graffiti tag. KC + H2, in lime green. I wonder what kind of tag that place has on Hank’s mind.

He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, and focuses on the road. He won't look southwest. I don’t ask. I’m not sure Hank would tell.

But we nearly hit 45th, and I already palm my gun. I see Hank glance to my lap as I clutch it tightly.

"Vest," he reminds me, jerking his head towards the vest laying on the bloody back seat. Crockett’s blood. 

I grab the vest, not caring if my blood mixed in at this point. I rip off my coat, putting on the vest and not caring to slip back on my coat. I don’t feel the cold anymore. All I feel is sun and sand and rage. 

"Kate," he says as he parks a ways up the street. "Are you sure you want this?" 

He's deadly, and he's checked his gun at least twice, and he's doing it again. 

“Hank,” I say, looking at him instead of the shithole of a house we were about to infiltrate, “When have you ever known me to be unsure about anything I do?”

"I know," he says simply, finally looking at me, and there's a hurricane in his eyes. "I wasn't. I needed to know you are."

I don’t respond. I just get out of the car. He gets out, his gun in his hand. He motions to the sidewalk. 

"How do you want to bust in? Front or back, together or split?"

He's ignoring protocol. This is off books. This is for blood.

“You tell me,” I nearly growl. “Which will look better for the cops when they get called for gunshots?”

"Beretta M9?" He asks me quietly, seemingly veering off topic. 

I gesture with it, shrugging. “Army gun. Can’t break it.”

He nods. "Thought so." He sheepishly pulls out a suppressor from his pocket. "Took a chance. Guessed right." 

He fits his own suppressor, and looks at me. 

"Which door?" He asks again. 

I eye the location. “Front door,” I say, twisting on the suppressor. “I want him to see me coming.”

He nods. He looks at me, in the eye. "Are you ready for this?" 

“Stop stalling, Hank. Let’s go.”

"On three." He cocks his gun. "One. Two. Three!" 

He kicks in the door, and his gun is up and moving. I follow after, going left where he goes right. I look for the perps. I don’t have a visual yet. Hank continues forward, out of the living room and towards the hallway. I touch his shoulder as we go. I clear the bathroom, he clears a bedroom, and we’re left heading to the back—the kitchen.

I see movement.

He jumps forward, and he pistol whips a guy across the face. His gun is now trained on the man we came for - Carver. I level my gun at the other guy in the kitchen, and he puts his hands up, but I’m not taking chances. I don’t take my attention off of him.

Hank frees one hand and pulls a set of cuffs from his pocket. He stalks forward, gun still on Carver as he cuffs the other guy. 

"Get down," he says gruffly, turning back to Carver, who's beginning to chuckle.

I train my gun on Carver. “The fuck you laughing about?” I ask. “Looks to me like you’ve got a bit of a problem.”

"You're not a cop," he laughs. "What's a shady bitch like you doing here?"

Hank still has his gun trained on Carver. I take a step towards him, leaning down until I’m eye level with him. 

“How would you know?” I say, pointing to the POLICE across my chest. “You really want to fuck with me? If I am a cop, and let’s say that I am, you really want to try to tell me I haven’t earned my spot here? And then, on the other side, if I’m not a cop, why am I wearing a police vest and participating in a raid to get your sorry ass?” I can’t help but smile. “So look at your choices. I’m either here to legally kick your ass,” I grab for his hair. He’s not fast enough to fight against me. “Or, I have so much Goddamn pull in the CPD that I’ve been allowed to go on this field trip. Do you want to come in, or do you want to die today? It ain’t my choice.”

Hank's gun is still pointed at Carver, but I see him give me a startled double take. Carver chuckles again. 

"You're that doctor's friend. You work at the university. You ain't no cop. How's Doc doing, by the way? Should be dead by now."

I calmly take my gun and reach out, handing it to Hank. “I need you to take this.”

He steps back calmly, gun in hand. "Kick his ass, kid, I'll hold your gun."

Carver doesn’t even see it coming. I reel back, still grasping his hair in my hand, and slam my fist into his face. I feel bones crack. His or mine, I don’t know. He slips down onto the cracked tile floor, almost unable to fight back. I rain down holy hell, straddling him so he can’t get up. There’s blood coming from his nose, from his mouth. I see a cut above his eye. His whole face is covered in blood. One more hit, and he starts to pass out, his head bouncing off the floor. I hold his neck against the tile, tightening my grasp before looking up to Hank.

Hank leans against the wall, watching. 

Carver sputters. Blood coming from his lost teeth. I’ve cut off his air supply. 

Hank hums before grabbing the other guy by the cuffs and marching him out the back door.

“No witnesses, asshole,” I say. He gasps.

This is the guy who helped kidnap Crockett. I have to know more. 

“Why him? Why’d you pick him?” I ask, releasing just enough on the man’s throat.

"He's usually alone-" he gasps. "We watched him enough… he's alone enough we thought no one would notice he was gone."

“How long have you been following him?” 

"Since October!"

I run back the clock. “When. Were you involved in his first attack?! Were you the crew that mugged him?!”

"It wasn't my idea!" He screeches.

I bear down on his throat again. I know if I do it right, the hyoid bone could snap, and then it would be a matter of time. But I don’t know. He was so concerned before. He didn’t want me to have to kill. Crockett wouldn’t want me to do this. 

Would he? Does he actually need to die?

He’s lying here, bleeding on the floor. He can’t hurt anyone like this. If he was attacking me, that was different. He’s at my mercy. And I should be merciful. 

I punch him one last time. His head smashes against the floor and I let go. His chest still heaves. He’s still alive. I don’t know how they’re going to play this one, but something tells me he’s not going to talk, either. I stand up, looking at my bloody hands. I know my knuckles are broken. Possibly on both hands. 

Worth it.

I hear in my head, the conversation with Crockett, as Hank’s footsteps echo through the dirty foreclosure.

I don’t realize until he’s arrived that I’m speaking out loud.

“I, Kaitlyn Elen Gerwitz, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”

I kick him in the stomach before brushing past Hank on the way out. Hank comes out, the bastard bloody and cuffed. Hank shoves him in the back seat, and he drives. 

As we return back the way we came, Hank lets himself glance at the silos as we pass. We pull into the back of the district. 

Trudy's waiting for us. She barely says a word as she forcibly rips the bastard from the back seat, and tosses him in the cage. 

She nods once at us before disappearing inside. Hank says nothing but pulls back onto the street again. 

We ride in silence on the way back to Gaffney. As we go, I rip the vest once more from my chest, my hands throbbing. The blood has dried on my hands.

I keep my eyes forward. Hank pulls into the back lot. He shuts the car off and lets his head fall on his arms. 

“We did good,” I whisper. “We did good, right?”

He nods silently. He brings his head up finally, and his eyes are glistening. "Let's go check on our boy," he says quietly.

He takes one moment to pull me into a hug, and I think he's leaning on me as much as I'm leaning on him.

I follow him inside. I’m aware of the blood on my hands. This is the second time today there’s been blood on my hands. I don’t want there to be a third.

He stops me just outside the ED, at the sink. He wordlessly holds out his hand to hold my rings. I pull off my rings— my wedding band and engagement ring, my claddagh. This time, my hands are steady.

There’s still blood on my skin, my wrists. I start scrubbing. I scrub until my skin is raw. I can see where the blood was mine on my knuckles. I don’t know how many are broken. I don’t care.

"You ready?" He asks quietly, handing back my rings. He shoves his shaking hands into his pockets. Instead of trying to shove them back on my hand, I unhook my necklace and slide them on. The weight is welcome as we head back down the hallway.

Lanik comes around the corner, almost running into us. "Hey," he says quietly with a little tired smile.

“How is he?” I say, clearing my throat. The adrenaline threatens to come down on me again, and the shakiness is just around the corner. I have to stave it off.

"He's stable. We found the bleed, another transfusion, we think this might be the road to recovery now," he says.

“Can we talk to him?” I ask. 

Lanik shrugs. "He's awake. Don't see why not. He's on the general recovery ward."

I’m already brushing past Lanik to find the recovery ward. I know where it is. I’ve been there too many times. But I have a one track mind, and I need to see him.

I don’t even know what I would tell him.

Hank walks with me, one step behind and and a half step to the right. He's got my six.

The door is open. 

After a moment, Dr. Charles leaves. He sees us in the hallway, and gives Hank a warm nod, and squeezes my shoulder. I step inside and I see Crockett. Awake. Much better than before. 

“Crockett,” I breathe. “You, uh. You scared me, you know.”

He smiles and reaches a hand out, trying not to get tangled in the oxygen tube and the IV. "Hey, Katie Kat."

The panic comes at the nickname. I let out a whimper and the tears just come with no warning. I don’t even make it to the chair. 

Hank lifts me into the chair, then steps back to stand sentry at the door. 

Crockett's hand finds mine. 

"Hey, hey," he says, worried. "Kate, darlin', talk to me." 

His thumb is running over my hand, and he looks down to frown at my knuckles. I cringe, I almost want to pull back, but I can’t. I can’t, because his touch is the only thing keeping me grounded. 

"Talk to me, Kate," he says again, and his hands cover mine. 

He's looking at me, searching my face. 

“We got him,” I say, my voice cracking. “We got the last guy who did this to you.”

The wind gets knocked from him, I can see it in his face. He lets his eyes close for a moment before squeezing my hands again. 

"Kate," he says, and his voice is fragile.

“Don’t do this,” I say. “Don’t. We got him, and that… that’s that. That’s the end of this. That’s the end of all this shit. You don’t have to worry about them again.”

He looks conflicted. "Thank you," he says finally, and he closes his eyes to hide the tears of relief.

I just hope he doesn’t connect the dots between what I said and the pain in my knuckles. If he does, I’ll have to tell him the truth.

There's a knock on the door, and Lanik comes in. "Sorry to bother you," he says quietly. 

"Kate, the DNA from the guy you brought into the station tonight, the DNA matched to the unknown attacker," he says.

“The unknown attacker?” I ask. “What… what are you talking about?” I’m terrified. I know what he’s about to say, and I’m bracing myself for it. 

With an apologetic look to Crockett, he holds up the file. 

"Crockett, the DNA from your attacker those months ago match to the DNA that Kate and Voight brought in tonight. They caught him. It's over."

To Crockett's credit, he's calm. "Thanks," he says. "Can we have a minute….?"

Once Lanik is gone, Crockett stares at me. "You absolute idiot."

“I did what I had to do.”

"No!" He bursts out, then swipes a hand over his face, near frantic. "Kate, the hell were you thinking?"

“I was thinking about you!” I try not to yell. “I was thinking about you! And I can attest to that, because I didn’t fucking kill the guy!” I rap my wounded knuckles against my head, then regret it, cringing. “You’re in my head, Crockett! You’re like my fucking moral compass, and even when I found the guy who hurt you not once but twice, you told me not to kill him. I wanted to kill him. I could have killed him. With my bare hands, too. But I didn’t. Because you told me not to.”

He catches my hands again, and then yanks me closer. "You goddamn idiot," he mutters as a tear decides to betray him. "Thank you."

“I made a promise,” I whisper. “I made a promise and I keep my promises.”

"You're amazing, you know that?"

“I try. I try for my family. You’re my family, Crockett. God knows I need more.”

He hugs me tighter, minding his injuries. "Voight," he calls. "C'mere."

Hank declines the hug, but his hands do land on Crockett's shoulder, and mine. There’s not much I can say. There’s not much I can say in front of Crockett, or in front of Hank, but thankfully they’re both content with silence. 

After a moment, Crockett swipes a hand under his eyes with a sniff. 

"You both are insane. Thank you."

* * *

**Kelley **

I poke my head in the door. 

"Hey…" 

Voight nods at me, and Kate and Crockett both give watery smiles. 

"Can I come in?" 

Crockett nods. 

Hank squeezes his shoulder one more time, and Kate's, before excusing himself. 

It's just the three of us now. I don't know what to say. 

"Kelley, Kate," Crockett says, somewhat quietly. "Stay?"

Kate follows his orders, collapsing quickly and quietly into one of the chairs. She looks tired. She looks _exhausted. _I see flecks of blood along the skin on her neck. 

Crockett reaches a hand to her. 

“We got you, Crockett,” she murmurs, almost like a prayer. “We’ve got you.”

He falls asleep quickly, and I gently rub Kate's shoulders, trying to release some of the tension. 

"Kate," I whisper. "What ever you did, it worked. Thank you."

Kate just nods. It’s about all she can muster. 

I rub once more. 

"Go sleep, Kate. Go find Mouse," I say softly. 

With that, she stands, letting our hands drift from hers. I’m not sure if she’s the angel of retribution or the angel of death as she leaves the hospital room. But I know that the darkness that was today, she shined the light so that we could all get through to the end of it. 


	18. Any Place, Any Time, You Gotta Know For You I'll Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of the last week, Crockett is permitted to return home. Still, Kate monitors his health—even at the expense of her own. But truths come out, the truths that needed to come out—for the both of them.

**January 24, 2020** **  
** **1940 Hours**  
**210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Kate**

Kelley opens the door, and she smiles at me. "Thank God. C'mon in."

Her bag is by the door and her keys are in her hand.

Her voice drops low. "He's in bed. He was okay almost all day and then two hours ago he tried to get up and make dinner. I had to schlepp him back to bed, and he's still half awake. Low grade fever, too. Moron." Her mouth is going a mile a minute as she paces. "I wish I could stay but Herrmann's rig's inspection is tomorrow morning and we gotta run practice tonight."

I just nod, once. It’s about all I can muster as she nearly runs past me. 

“I’ve…” my voice comes out crackly. I clear my throat. “I’ve got him.”

She hugs me tight. "Thank you. Thank you so damn much." 

I try to hug her back. I just feel like… like I’m in a fog, but I have to. I have to hug her back, or she’ll think something is wrong.

"I gotta run," she mutters, and squeezes me once more before picking up her bag. "Call me if you need anything?"

“Of… of course, of course,” I murmur. I’m in parade rest. When did I slip into parade rest?

"Thank you," she whispers again, and she slips out the door.

And I’m left in silence. I shut my eyes tight, resting my hand against the wood. If I stand still long enough, the tinnitus becomes white noise. If the white noise grows, I’m going to be lost. 

I straighten. I shake it from my head. I can’t. Not now. Not when Crockett needs me.

I head back into the great room, and I feel like I should go and check on him, but my sight nearly tilts, so I find myself sliding to the floor, my back against the bar. 

Just a second. I just…. I just need a second before the white noise tries to overtake me. 

I press my palms against my forehead, but the splints on my knuckles smack my skin, reminding me of what I’ve done.

There's a thump, and then a muffled cry from down the hall. I’m on my feet immediately, even though the vertigo kicks in and I slam into the wall myself. I make it into Crockett’s bedroom as fast as I can go.

He's sitting up, hunched over. His feet are on the floor as he holds his side. 

"Kate?" He looks up, confused. It’s the first I’ve seen him since… since what happened. God, he looks tired. He doesn’t deserve this shit. 

“Hey, you… you need to relax, okay? Lay back down. You’ve done enough,” I say, stabilizing myself with a hand on the edge of his bed. The buzzing gets louder. 

He lays back, still staring at me. "What in hell are you doin' here?" His eyes are feverish, glistening as he watches me.

“Kelley had to get to work. She didn’t want you alone,” I say, giving him a smile. It feels forced. I do it anyway. 

"Oh," he says quietly. 

He curls up on his side, and stares at the wall. "Thanks."

“Do you need anything? Can I… can I do anything for you?” 

Dammit, KC, get out of parade rest. Stop it. Stop. 

He shrugs listlessly, wincing as he jostles his side. "Need to get up," he mutters.

I rush to his side, and I help him stand, even though he’s a good half foot taller than me. “If we’re gonna do this, you’re gonna sit down on the couch, okay?”

He nods, and there's already sweat glistening on his face. 

He has to stop to breathe every five feet or so, and he's trying not to lean on me. But I know the feeling, I know the need to get up, and I half-carry him to the couch. When he sits, I touch my hand to his forehead.

“How do I fix a fever, ‘Kett?”

He waves a hand tiredly. "Just leave it. Sit."

I sit down on the other side of the couch, trying to clasp my hands in front of me. Two broken knuckles on my left. Three on my right. My right ring finger, completely broken on a guy’s face. Not the first time. 

He's still staring at the floor. "Katie Kat."

I hear the nickname, but it doesn’t stop me from fading. I see the blood. I see the sand. It’s like every incident I’ve ever gone through is mixing into one. 

Ah, yeah. There’s the white noise.

"Kate?"

The rush of adrenaline hits me like a 2 x 4 to my ribs, like a gunshot to my knee, like a stab to my heart. It’s coming for me. I hear it, in the back of my mind, but I have to fight it off. Not again. Don’t do this again. We’ve had this talk, brain, and we can’t. 

I am in Chicago, not Afghanistan. I’m not overseas. I am home. I am home. I am. 

I feel like I’m trying to sink deeper into myself. 

"Katie!" 

And it’s back. After months of fighting it, it’s back. That damn vision of the desert. The .45 caliber gun. And then it shifts, and it’s that graffitied to Hell church. It flickers between the two like a bad cut in an old movie. 

And then I’m staring down the asshole who held Crockett hostage. 

"Kate Gerwitz!" I hear, a voice that's shaky and hoarse. It’s not the right name. Not the right name, not the right voice. Swirling sand. Gunshots. Not my gun, a Sig Sauer. I know the sound of the Beretta. It’s a familiar sound, it’s a comforting sound. I can hear my own breathing. Get out of it, KC. Get out. You can crawl your way out, just don’t draw blood when you do. 

Sliding hands on the hourglass, the sand topples down on top of me. I’m getting buried alive. I can’t. I can’t dig myself out. 

"Kaitlyn Elen, come back."

That’s… that’s not the right voice. His tone shifts. There’s a drawl to it. A draw. A drawl? 

"Kate darlin', c'mon now."

It’s like a curtain parts, like I’m sinking into a stream. Oh, black water, keep on rolling. I’m deep in the water, but something tells me I’m not going to drown. Like I can breathe it in and be fine. I can hear my own heartbeat, and I can’t get it to slow down, but something tells me he could. He could. Kate darlin’. Darlin’. That drawl could lower my blood pressure. It still might. I’m dizzy, I’m reeling, I’m on the floor, arms resting on my knees. I’m supposed to be here for him, he’s not supposed to be there for me. I’m here for him. I was there for him before. I killed a guy. I nearly killed another. 

I’m sobbing before I can see again.

"Kate, honey," I hear, and then there's a hand on my cheek. "Hey, Katie, c'mon, darlin'."

I’m shaking so hard, I can’t get myself to stop. It’s like the last week just hit me all at once. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I… I’m sorry,” I say, somewhere between heaving breaths. I feel like I can’t get enough.

"Enough of that, don't you dare be sorry." 

I'm pulled into his chest, and his arms close around me. At first, the fear of the enclosed space shoots more adrenaline through me, but I settle, trying not to shake, trying to breathe normally, but I just hear myself muttering. I don’t know when I started. Somewhere after my apologies. I’m halfway through the oath again when I have to stop and stumble over my name. 

There's a low sound, and it takes me a moment to realize it's his voice. 

It's shaking and hoarse and painful sounding, but I… I can only just make out the words. 

"Over in Killarney, many years ago, my mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low…" 

He's still holding me, and he's singing so softly it's almost a whisper. I clutch onto his arm, both hands on his, as he holds me close. I can hear my own hoarse, shaking, painful voice match his.

“Just a simple ditty, in her good old Irish way and I’d give the world if she could sing that song to me this day.” I feel the tension finally start to leave, my grip on his arm start to weaken, and then my whole body go numb.

He hums the chorus through, and his arms finally loosen, just a tad.

"Darlin'?"

At first, all I can hear is my breathing. 

“‘Kett, I can’t make it stop,” I whisper hoarsely.

"You're here. You're here with me," he whispers. "I've got you. I'm here with you."

“I’m supposed… I should be here for _ you _,” I say. “I can’t shake it, ‘Kett. Ever since… ever since the warehouse, and the… and the house near Davis Square Park. I can’t. I can’t get it to stop.”

He's rocking me softly. "Talk to me, darlin'. Talk it through." 

“They were gonna kill you. You…. you know what happened. They were gonna kill you, and I just saw red. I saw red, and I was that person again. That person I wouldn’t be again. But I didn’t care. I had to. I had to go after them. I had to.”

He just hums into my hair. 

“It had to be me. It had to be me, ‘Kett. I want you to understand.”

"I know," he whispers. "I understand. Thank you."

“I can’t lose you. I can’t. You keep endin’ up in harm’s way, and I swear. I will kill anyone I have to. I’ve done it before, ‘Kett. I’ll do it again. I don’t care. I’m not losin’ anymore people.”

He holds me tighter, biting back a noise. "That means a hell of a lot to me, darlin', but I don't want you to have that on your conscience."

“It’s already there, ‘Kett. It’s already there. I just want to hold onto the good. I just… I feel like there’s always been this… this darkness, eating away inside of me. Or something that wants to rid the world of the darkness, I don’t know. And it doesn’t care how I get there. Even if I have to do horrible things.”

"Kate, you're a good one. The best," he whispers, rubbing my back. "Just promise me that you'll keep holding onto the good, you won't lose your way."

“You know… I called you my… my moral compass. I didn’t kill that guy. I wanted to. Oh, God, I wanted to.” I peer at my hands. “I could have. With my bare hands. But I didn’t because like a voice in my head, you told me not to. You told me not to.”

His hand lays gently on top of mine. 

"I'm proud of you," he says hoarsely.

“You shouldn’t… you… this shouldn’t be a thing you should be proud of,” I snap. “Me? Not… not killin’ a guy? That’s what you’re congratulating me for? I should be… I could be… I need to be better, Crockett. I need to be better for… for…”

"Don't tell me how to love my sister. You're getting better. You're on the road. That's what I'm proud of. And you're here." He shoots me a crooked half-smile. He knows what he’s doing. And I love him for it.

“You should never have to go through the shit you’ve gone through,” I whisper, finally looking at him. “God, you look like hell.”

"I'll take… I'll take that as a compliment," he says, a faint chuckle before he cringes.

“You… you okay? What do you need?” I look him over, still wary of the fact that… that I held him together. God. I killed for him. I beat the shit out of a man for him. I held his body together with my bare hands.

I start to cry again, my hand covering my mouth as I sob.

"I'm right here, darlin'. Right here, I've got you- I've got you." He whispers haltingly as he pulls me closer again.

“I had… you were bleeding out, Crockett. And I didn’t even think. I just did it. I just did it. No questions.”

"I'm sorry."

“I’m not!” I croak out. “Crockett, you would be _ dead _ ! I never thought… I... “ I look down at my hands. In that day, they had killed, they had beaten, but they had _ saved. _ “I didn’t know I could.”

He covers my hands with his shaking ones. "I'm thankful, darlin'."

“I love you, ‘Kett,” I say. “I don’t tell you enough. I do. I love you.”

He smiles, tight, pained, but it's there. "I love you too, darlin'. What do you say, should we - shit- should we get off the floor?"

“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, let me help you--” I manage to nearly pick him up once I stand, and I get him back onto the couch.

He sinks back with a gasp.

"Thanks," he manages. I reach out and take my hand in his, running my thumb over his unbroken knuckles. 

There’s not a darkness inside me. I know there isn’t. I wouldn't have people like Crockett if I did.

Then why do I feel so hollow?

“Crockett, we’re gonna have to eat something. I know you don’t feel like it, but we should,” I begin. My body feels like it could collapse, just like he just did, but I have to stay strong. I make sure I’m functioning, and then grab my phone. “I can’t cook. Not… not right now. What do you want?”

He stares at his hands, and shrugs. "I don't… I don't know. I'm really not hungry."

“You’re a doctor. You know you gotta. I love you, man, but you gotta listen to me right now.”

"Fine, just, not sure how much I can." 

He's trying to find a halfway comfortable position, but ultimately settles with a wince.

“Can I get you anything? Another pillow? I…” I deflate. “Listen, Crockett, I’m doin’ my best here, but unfortunately for you, I’m usually on the other side of this situation. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.”

He chuckles quietly. "That's a'right. I'm sorry I'm not much good company."

I stand up, shaking my head at him. “There’s an old proverb I always remembered. ‘The friend appears in hard times, not at big dinners’. When you need me most, I’m gonna be there."

"Thanks. Nothin' too strong for food."

I’m scrolling through Grubhub. “Soups? Why not a soup. Soups are good. Right? Sick people like soups?”

"Sounds good," he mutters, reaching up a hand to his forehead. 

I note it. I need to check his temperature. Food first. “How about some good old chicken noodle? Sound good?” I’m pacing now. Good. Good, I need to focus on something else. 

"Yeah, yeah sure."

I don’t know how much is enough. I usually cook enough for Greg and I to eat for days, so I just say fuck it and order a bunch. Half an hour. Good. Enough time.

“Hey, ‘Kett? Where’s your thermometer?”

"Med kit, top left cupboard," he says, and his eyes are closed. I remember where he said the last time we needed it. God, why the hell are we always using this damn med kit? I slip up onto my tip toes, fight with the cupboard and my bum fingers, and start pawing through it on the counter. Once I find it, I look at it dumbly. 

“Crockett, should I get to Google, or can you walk me through this shit?”

He laughs breathlessly. "There's the little conical covers, slide one on and pass it here. Ear thermometers should not confuse you. I can do it."

I follow his instructions and go back to him, handing him the thermometer. “I feel like a dumbass, ‘Kett. This is above my knowledge base. God, what am I going to do when we have kids?” I say, slamming myself down into the nearest chair.

He grins. "You'll learn. I can help. Will can help." The thermometer beeps, and he glares at it, shutting it off and tossing it back to me. I’m assuming that means it’s fine, so I shrug. 

“Food’s on the way. Sorry… sorry for freaking out on you earlier.” 

He looks up at me. "I told you not to apologize for that. Don't. I'm glad I could help."

“You do,” I say, my voice sounding weaker than it should. “You do. More than you know. Sometimes… sometimes not even Greg can break me out. Maybe we’re too similar. Or too different. I don’t know.”

He nods, smiling weakly before he rests his head on the back of the couch. This time, I let him rest. He should be resting, anyway. I’m keeping him up with all this talk of war and flashbacks. But it shouldn’t have happened. None of this should have happened. Not here. Not to us.

We’ve been through enough, I thought. 

I shake away the static when I hear a knock on the door. I get our food, tip the delivery guy, and start spreading it out on the counter. 

“Hey, ‘Kett, I’ll bring it to you. Where are the bowls?”

There's no response, but I do hear a small cry.

I nearly fall over the coffee table running back to him, the panic already welling in my stomach and threatening to come up to my throat. 

I had left him alone too long.

His face is scrunching up, and he whimpers once. His hand clenches over where the wound was. 

“Hey. Hey, you gotta tell me what’s goin’ on, okay? How are you feeling? What are you feeling?” I try to gently pull his hand away from his side. 

He stirs, but doesn't answer, his eyes still screwed shut. Fine. Fine, this is fine. All is fine. I pull his hand away, pull up his shirt to look at the bandage.

He seems to wake up, shoving himself further into the couch as he gasps.

“_ A stór, _c’mon. I ain’t no doctor. I ain’t even a combat medic, you gotta give me some help here.”

He bats my hand away. "Just leave it, don't worry about it," he whispers, and his breath is still coming in painful gasps. 

“Uh, you’re in pain, and you can’t breathe right, I’m gonna worry about it,” I say, getting out my phone. “I’m gonna text Will—”

"No. No, fine." He takes a breath. "Don't call anyone. Just, still in pain, the broken ribs are pissing me off, and - what time is it?"

I check my watch. “God, it’s after nine. You really need to eat.”

"Need pain meds," he murmurs. 

“What’s their loc?” I shake my head. “Where do you keep them, ‘Kett?”

"I'll get them," he says as he pushes himself upright. Within seconds, he's crumbling towards the floor. I’m there, wary of hitting his side, but I catch him before he completely drops. For the second time tonight, I very nearly carry him to the couch. 

“That was a bad plan. A very bad plan. Could’ve told you that. I’ve been shot. Twice. Not that easy to deal with.”

He waves a hand. "I didn't fall. I was… I was testing your reflexes," he jokes. We both know the truth. 

I sigh, placing a hand on my head. “Am I this annoying when I get hurt? Be honest.”

He shrugs, wincing again. 

“I know you feel like hell, because you usually have some sort of snarky comment when I drag you like that. ‘Darlin’, you’re always annoyin’,” I say, affecting his drawl. “‘Saints. N’awlins. Something in French that I don’t know how to spell so I can’t Google it.”

He cracks half a smile, squinting at me. "I don't sound like that."

I scoff. “You wanna bet? Seriously? You get half a glass of bourbon in you and you sound like.. You sound like… dammit, I don’t know any famous New Orleanians who aren’t pirates or serial killers.”

He snorts. "Firstly, that's mostly a good sum-up of New Orleans. Secondly, Fats Domino. The Great Pretender, Blueberry Hill… please say you know who I mean."

“Of course I do. All I could think of on the spot were the Lafittes, Delphine LaLaurie and the Axeman, okay? I watch a lot of true crime. Come to think of it, it’s mostly _ Drunk History _ and _ Buzzfeed Unsolved _ and _ Ghost Adventures.” _

He nods. "Hey," he says softly. "My pain meds are in the bottle on the nightstand. Could you please grab them? Sorry."

“Nah, sure, I’ll get ‘em,” I murmur, heading into his bedroom. I find the bottle and return quickly. I don’t want to leave him alone too long. 

By the time I get back, he's half hunched over, but straightens up when I come closer. "Thanks."

I go and grab him a water, but watch him as he takes it. I know Jay didn’t, and that was his problem. I don’t know what would happen if it were just Crockett and I and he would disintegrate. I’m not ready for that. I don’t think I'll ever be ready for that.

He swallows it quickly, and sets the bottle down. He must think I'm not looking, because his face twists, and for one second, his eyes well up before he quickly wipes away the wetness under his eyes. 

He’s not going to let me address it. I know he won’t. The meds will help. They will, I keep telling myself, so I retrieve the thankfully still warm soup and bring it to Crockett. I sit cross-legged on the floor next to him, using the coffee table as a kitchen table. 

“Need anything else?”

He shakes his head as he eyes the soup, as if it might bite him.

“Eat the soup,” I order, gesturing with my spoon. “You know, when I had my first date with Mouse, I got so sick afterwards I had a fever of 105? I think. I don’t know. He came by the next day and made soup from scratch.”

He smiles a little. "Two things. First, he's good for you. You're good for him. Second, no wonder you're as crazy as you are. That 105 fever boiled alive most of your damn brain cells."

“There he is!” I say joyfully. “The Crockett I know and love and get into compromising positions with. Told ya. Food. Works wonders.”

He nods, eating in silence. He stops after about half of it, setting it down on the table and leaning his face in his hands.

“You alright? What can I do?”

"I'm fine," he whispers. "Just talk to me?"

“What do you want to talk about?” I say, realizing I’m shoving chicken noodle soup in my mouth like it’s gonna run away from me. 

"Anything's… how's you an' Mouse?”

I chuckle once. “Wonderful. We have started… looking for a house, actually.”

"Hey…" he smiles a bit. "Slow but sure."

“That tends to be our M.O.,” I say. “We can’t do anything fast. Well, except for that engagement. But I think that was kind of a foregone conclusion, you know? It’s gonna take us forever to find a house, and then… Lord, I don’t even want to know the time frame on what comes after.”

I can hear him chuckling a bit. 

“Well, it can’t happen until after I finish my doctorate. Then we’ll have the money, and a house, and we…” I feel myself deflate. “Is that a bad idea, ‘Kett? I… I’ll be thirty-four. Are we running out of time?”

"Hey, darlin', don't think about that. Focus on one thing at a time, a'right? It's not near too late, okay? You're- you're fine."

I give him the best smile I can muster. “I’m just terrified that… I’m terrified that… I’m worried my body won’t be able to do it, you know? I’ve been… I…” Don’t go down that road again. You just came back.

He reaches out his hand, and he smiles at me gently. "Kate, focus on my, a'right? Darlin', Kate, you're here, okay? We'll cross bridges as we get to them, but we need to focus on the road we're on. If we don't, the bridges won't even matter."

I push back the clouds, focusing on his drawl, and the words are coming out of my mouth before I realize it. 

“Why do I feel like I’m on the… the Pont… the Pontcha… whatever the _ fuck _ that long bridge is called in Louisiana.”

"The Pontchartrain?" He asks, amused.

“There are too many ‘r’s in that and not enough ‘r’ sounds,” I grumble. 

He chuckles, a hollow sound that doesn't match his smile. 

"Katie Kat," he murmurs as he tries to shift. I slip up to my knees, focusing again.

“What do you need?” I feel like I ask for the millionth time. I just hope he answers it this time.

"Need'ta check the stitches, but I need you to hold me steady."

I help him forward a little further on the couch, and slip behind him so he can lean into me and still do what he needs to do. Frankly, this is where I need to be. Supporting him so he can do what he does best. 

As he lifts his shirt and peeks back the bandage, his breath comes quicker, and he takes a moment to breathe, pumping his fist as he waits for the pain to subside. 

“How goes the battle, Marcel?” I whisper, brushing his hair back. I can feel the sweat on his brow.

He leans his head back for a second, trying to breathe. "Hurts like a bitch," he says, and then he's peeled the bandage back enough to look. I can hear him bite back a groan as he pokes around. As he puts the bandage back, he rests his head against me.

“Everything copacetic in there?” I murmur. “Make sure your insides are your insides?”

He hums. "Kate, you said something before, when you visited me in the hospital."

“I said a helluva lot when I visited you in the hospital,” I say, holding onto him. The closeness, his weight, is welcome. I still can’t help from being a little touchstarved. The closeness helps. 

"You held me together."

“I… I did say that, yes.”

His breath hitches, and his hand comes up behind him to gently rest on the back of my head. 

"Thank you," he whispers.

“Two things,” I say, clearing my throat a little. “One, the only hesitation I had was making sure I was doing it right, okay? Two… two, it was really gross, Crockett. Really gross. Don’t make me do it again. It was weird. I didn’t like it one bit.”

He sniffs, and nods. "I'll try."

“Seriously. My hand. Inside your guts,” I say, and I start making myself laugh. It’s a desperate laugh, one I’ve been holding back since… since what happened. “Lord, I wish I got him before he shot you.”

He laughs a bit, breathy but a laugh. 

"Eso sí que es," he whispers.

“Listen, I speak Pashto, basic Farsi, Gaelic, and well, some English, and I’m fairly certain you’re speaking Spanish, but all I can think of is that you were spelling ‘socks’ for some reason.”

"Eso sí que es," he repeats, laughing painfully. "I was agreeing with you."

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. I mean, I was trying. Hank wouldn’t let me,” I pout.

"You did what you had to." 

He leans into me, going limp with an aborted groan.

“_ A stór, _tell me what’s wrong.”

"Hurts," he says quietly, hand bracing against the wound. "Little bit nauseous from pain and the meds."

“What can I do?” I whisper.

"I think I need to lay flat for a bit," he muses. "Can… can you help me get there?"

“Why don’t I get you to bed?” I offer. “You should get some rest anyway.”

He doesn't argue.


	19. I'm Bleeding Out, For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of the night on Kate's shift watching Crockett, all hell breaks loose. Even with the assistance of Will, things are touch and go—emotionally and physically. But even Kate knows that, no matter how hard she tries, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

_So I Bear My Skin and I Count My Sins_ **  
January 25, 2020** **   
** **0220 Hours**   
**210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **   
** **Kate**

I swear I hear gunfire. I know it’s only in my head, but I swear I hear it, and the accompanying battle noises—it’s so fucking cliche, it makes me want to be sick. 

I know why it’s there. Just a constant reminder. 

But I hear something from the bedroom—from Crockett’s room—that makes me sit upright from my place on the couch.

"No," there's a cry. "Get- get away!"

I rub my eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them, and nearly slam into the door frame, trying to regain my balance.

I can hear a gasp. 

"Kate, don't kill him-"

For a moment, I warily turn to the wall, thinking someone’s there. But it’s not. It’s in his memory, his nightmares. 

I don’t even know who he’s talking about at this point. The one I killed, or the one I didn’t?

He's curled up on his side, clutching the edge of the bed, his eyes closed.

"Kate-" 

I know what to do. I hate that I do, but I do. I lean down on the side of the bed, careful not to disturb him.

“Crockett? Crockett, it’s Kate. I’m here. You’re not there. That’s not where you are right now. You’re at home, in bed, and I’m with you. You need to wake up.”

His face darkens, but his eyes open, darting around to land on me.

“Hey, ‘Kett. Hey. It’s me. You’re not there, okay? Not anymore.” I reach out for his hand, waiting for him to make first physical contact.

He stares at it, and his hand slowly meets mine. 

And then he hunches over.

"Kate," he whispers. "Don't feel too good." 

I reach up to feel his forehead. It’s not just warm, it’s hot.

“I’m calling Gaffney.”

"No!" He doubles over further, hand guarding his stomach. "No, no Gaffney. Just Will."

I hesitate. I hate this idea, but the fact of the matter is, we did the same thing three weeks ago with Jay. He doesn’t want it on the books. Frankly, I don’t either. 

I call Will.

Crockett doesn't watch me, just stays curled up, and I can hear his almost-groan.

Will doesn’t answer. 

I slip up onto the bed, redialing, and sit next to Crockett, brushing his hair back. The fever is doing numbers on him, and I’m not leaving. 

On the third dial, Will picks up.

“ _ Where are you?” _ He says, already sounding like he has his keys. 

“It’s not me. It’s Crockett,” I murmur. “His apartment.”

“ _ Be there in fifteen,” _ he says, ending the call. 

This shouldn’t be something we’re used to. 

Crockett looks up at me, sweat plastering his hair, as if maybe I could make it stop. 

"When's he comin'?" He mutters, curling further in on himself with a whimper.

“I give him about eleven minutes, okay? He drives fast. He doesn’t admit it, but he does. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

"Burns, like hell. I'm hot one second, cold next. Kate…. Make it stop-" he's trying to move to a comfortable position, but by the way he's moving, I don't think there is. 

He grips my hand tightly. 

“Gimme one second, okay? I’ll be right back.” I run to the bathroom and get a washcloth, soak it in cool water. Quickly, I undo the locks on the door. When I get back, he hasn’t moved, so I join him and I pull his head into my lap.

He's closed his eyes, and he's shaking. 

"Make it stop," he whispers. "When's Will comin'?"

“About six minutes by my count,” I whisper. I should have taken medical classes. I wonder if I still could. 

He says nothing, until he jerks. Okay. Okay, this is new. This is nothing I know about. What the fuck do I do—

He turns to me, and he's started crying. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, breathless.

Okay. Okay, I can deal with crying. I can do that. 

“Hey. Hey, man, it’s okay. Let it out. It fuckin’ sucks. But it’s over, okay? We got him. I got him.”

"I'm sorry," he says again. "You… you killed them," he whispers, still half-panicked.

“And I’d do it again,” I whisper. I nearly pull him into my lap. “Will is coming. If you hear the door, it’s Will, okay?”

He nods, trying to rub his face, still shaking. "Make it stop, make it stop," he chants under his breath, hand gripping my shirt.

“He’s comin’. I’m here,” I murmur. “You’re gonna be okay.” 

I hear the door open. “Bedroom!” I call out. 

Will comes in, carrying a bag and looking disheveled, but he’s here. That’s all I need right now. 

“What’s goin’ on?” He murmurs, but I refuse to move. I’m here now. I’m not leaving. 

Crockett's eyes flick up to Will. "H-hey, man," he whispers. "Remember three weeks ago? Might have to do an encore." 

He leans into me with another small cry, and his eyes close again. "Ran a 102 fever earlier. Don't know what it is now. Think it's… think it may be infected."

He curls tighter, and he tries to smile. It just comes out as a grimace.

“Stop tryin’ to do the handoff,” Will mutters, taking off his coat and dropping his bag on the bed. 

Crockett nods. "Okay."

Will brushes a hand over Crockett's forehead and frowns. He pulls out a thermometer, and does roughly what 'Kett did earlier. 

"Marcel, you're up to 104," he mutters. He looks at me. "Did you know?"

“What? I… he had the thermometer. He was fine. He was…. he never told me. Dammit, ‘Kett.”

He shrugs, wincing. "Sorry?" He reaches up to rub his face again. 

Will shakes his head. 

"Need to check the wound, okay? Kate, you might not want to see."

“No. I’m here. Tell me what you need me to do,” I say, shifting my weight so I can hold him properly.

"Grab his shoulders, hold him down, okay? He's probably going to try and buck."

"I'm right here," Crockett mutters, and Will ignores the remark. 

"Hold him down, I need to have room to see," Will tells me as he starts trying to forcefully uncurl Crockett from himself. I do my best, readjusting him to suit Will, but instead, I end up taking both his hands in mine. 

He gasps, trying to move, and Will's swearing as Crockett moves.

I breathe. I breathe through it. Don’t do this, not now. When I blink, Will’s in desert camo. Wrong brother, brain. Nice try.

"Kate, keep him still, I need to clean it!"

I gently hold him down. Gently. As gentle as I can be. It’s not easy. He’s squirming. 

“C’mon, buddy. You’re fine. You’re fine. You know it has to be done.”

Will's working as fast as he can, and he looks up to me. 

"How're we doing?" he mutters, trying to work quick and steady.

“Just fuckin’ peachy, William,” I snap. “Everything’s comin’ up Gerwitz over here. Can you hurry up, please?”

Will huffs, and then he's doing something, and I don't know what, because Crockett screams, bucking up, trying to curl in on himself. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” I say, pushing him down. I try to grasp his hands, it’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine. It’s fine. Control your breath. It’s fine. 

He's sobbing, and Will backs away, hands up. "I'm done. It's over."

Crockett doesn't stop, just leaning into me. "Make it stop," he chants.

“We’re working on it, we’re working on it,” I say. “Will’s doing his best. Will’s doing it. Trust us. Trust us, okay?”

He leans into me, and slowly his breathing slows. 

Will climbs up on the bed beside us. 

"When was your last dose?" He asks him quietly, but looks to me.

Last dose? Last dose. Right. Right, last… focus. “It was right before I ate. Around… around 9 ish, I think?”

Will nods. "Okay. Kate, I need you to grab a shit ton of cold cloths."

I slip out from underneath Crockett and find my way to the bathroom. Cold cloths. Cold cloths. I find the washcloths and just start dousing them in water. 

I see myself in the mirror. I look like absolute hell. 

With my cold cloths achieved, I bring them back to Will. 

“Is this… is this good?”

He nods from where he's settling Crockett against cushions. 

"Need to try to get his temp down, and the faster the better." 

"Kate…" Crockett almost slurs. "Katie darlin'…"

I glance to Will. “Should we get him in the tub, or something? Does he…” I squint against the headache. I’m remembering the last fever. The tub. The pneumonia. “He needs to cool down, and fast.”

Will pauses, trying to think. "Maybe. We should. Don't want to scare him more," he mutters before making up his mind. "Run the water."

I head back to the bathroom. Lukewarm. Lukewarm, yeah. That’s what it has to be. Lukewarm. I run my fingers under the water, trying to breathe. He’s going to be fine. He’s gotta be fine. He will be fine. 

“Will? Will, I’ve got it going,” I say. 

"Help me carry him," he calls back. "Shouldn't we call Kelley?"

“No!” I say. “No, she’s on call, she’s.. She’s on an overnight. She’s had enough to deal with. I’ll update her after.”

I head back to the bedroom, positioning myself to help carrying Crockett. When I shift, with Will’s help, I realize he’s just directing me. Lord, remind me to make fun of him later. I have to. I have to laugh about this. Sometime. Maybe it’s my gallows humor. Maybe he’s just lost too much weight. 

Stop. Stop worrying about him. He’s going to be fine. 

"Careful. Can't jostle him too much," Will says. 

Crockett's almost limp. No. No, no, no. Can’t do it. I lay him down in the water, clothes and all. Please. Please don’t do this. We’ve done enough. We’ve suffered enough. I lean against the bathtub, my arms wet from the lukewarm water. 

Will sits on the floor next to me, and his hand is on a pulse point. 

"That towel," he points. "Wet it, get it on his face." 

I follow his instruction, going as fast as I can without fucking it up. 

"Kate, maybe we should bring him in. I'm not really sure what I can do if it doesn't come down," Will's worried, and I can hear it. 

Crockett is pale. It’s worse this time, because I don’t know how I can even help. Before, I could stop the bleeding. This time, it’s out of my control. 

I start to hyperventilate. I know I am. I can’t. I cannot do this right now.

The only thing I can control is myself. You can control yourself. That’s it. Don’t freak. Don’t panic. Will is here. 

God dammit. The only person who can help me is the one half dead in front of me. 

“Not yet,” I finally say. “You didn’t call it in when I was sick. The pneumonia, remember? I didn’t go in, and you fixed it. We can fix this. We can fix this.”

Will turns back to the one in front of us. 

Crockett's pale as hell, and he's almost gray. 

Will is swearing under his breath. Swearing or praying, I don't know which. I try to remember. I’ve got this. I’ve… I can do this. I can fucking do this. You’ve survived war, and bombs, and explosions and chest wounds and you’re freezing now, of all places. In front of your friends. Your  _ brothers _ . Buck up or back up. 

“Hey, Crockett,” I start. “Hey, why don’t you talk to me, buddy? Let’s rap. Let’s talk… hey, what about New Years? When are we gonna go out and fleece some assholes again, huh?”

Will looks sideways at me and nods once. He leans into the tub to keep Crockett from slipping under the water.

“C’mon, you gotta stay awake and talk to me, buddy,” I say. “Let’s make some plans, alright? What kind of con are we gonna pull? That threesome con worked pretty damn well last time.”

Crockett's head slips forwards, and Will nods. "Keep going."

“We could even start dressing the part!” I say. “Whoever you wanna be. I… I’ll be Tierney O’Byrne. Maybe this time I could be the model, right?” I chuckle. “Or… or how about Sikandar Rostami, high powered businessman and his sexy assistant? Crockett, c’mon. We gotta make plans, dammit. Listen to me and come back, okay?”

Will is half in the tub by now.

"Kate…" I hear. Crockett's head is falling to the side but his eyes are open, just a slit. "Kate," he slurs.

I push back Will. Fuck this. I gently push Crockett forward and get into the tub behind him. There. He’s not going to fall over now. Fuck this. Fuck it. This water is  _ cold _ .

"Kate?" His voice is nothing more than a breath, but it's there. "What…? Katie?"

“Hey!” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m here. Dude, listen, this water is fuckin’ cold. How you feelin’?”

He's shivering. "So tired… hurts. So tired."

Will shakes his head. "Need to stay awake for a bit, bud."

Crockett leans into me, and he's still pretty limp.

“So, Crockett. How long you been runnin’ cons, huh?” I try. “First person I pickpocketed not named Halstead was… hmmm, thirteen?”

"High school," he whispers. "Sixteen?" He's drifting.

“Was it successful? You gotta tell me the whole story.”

"Got a free six-pack out of it…" he's stumbling over his words, slipping closer to the water. I adjust, pulling him up into my chest a little, but making sure he’s still in the cool water. 

“You sneaky bastard,” I say. “I just did it to see if I could. Will, do you remember what we did with that?”

“I think you bought Jay a new backpack, actually,” he says, distractedly. 

“Yeah, okay, so I was a bit of a Robin Hood in my youth,” I say. “When do you wanna do it again?”

"Let's go now," he whispers. 

Will snorts, then pulls out the thermometer again. 

"103."

I push the faucet with my foot, adding more lukewarm water to the tub. “Alright, but you gotta let me plan my outfit first. What should I wear?”

From where he's laying against me, he shrugs listlessly. 

Will leans forward. "Eyes open, man, c'mon."

“Crockett, I trust you, c’mon, tell me what character I need to play. It’ll be fun. I love Halloween.”

"Just be sexy. I'll play along." He's whispering, and his words are slurring again. "You take point."

“I’m a married woman now, I don’t know how to flirt!” I exclaim, kicking off the faucet. Please. C’mon, Saint Luke. Step it up.

Will reaches forward, holding him still. 

Crockett is still pale, but his eyes are open. I gesture to Will for the thermometer again. I don’t know how quickly it could go down. All I know is that I’m shivering. Head it off, Kate. Head it off. 

"102.5," Will murmurs, and Crockett hums, eyes slipping shut again.

"Kate…" he says, almost inaudible. 

“What do you need?” I say, brushing his hair back. “What’s up?”

"Don't feel too good…"

“I know. I know, babe. I know. Stay with me.”

Will watches us, then zeroes in on Crockett. 

"Stay awake, bud, you need to for a bit longer yet. Kate, I think we can get him out now."

I gesture towards the towels, for Will to grab, and I slip Crockett’s arm around my shoulder so I can stand up and get him to his feet. Will takes the towel and wraps it around him. 

His legs are weak, and almost all his weight is on me. 

"Gonna fall…" he slurs.

“Not gonna let you,” I say quickly. I shiver too, but it’s fine. I hold him tight. 

Will takes his other side, and we hold Crockett up between us. 

"Bed or couch?"

“Bed. Closer, and I can lay with him.”

Will nods, and we gently carry him. He's shivering, but he's awake. He’s awake. The fever is going down. I have to walk out. I’m soaked, I’m tired, I’m terrified. I head back to the bathroom and start draining the tub. 

I don’t know what’s worse: being the one in the tub, or being the one who has to deal with the aftermath. 

I lean on the ceramic, feeling myself falling back into that line of thinking again. 

I can’t. Gotta focus on Crockett.

Will's suddenly at the bathroom door with a bundle of clothes. 

"Crockett says to borrow those."

“He’s awake?” I say, my voice cracking. “He’s… he’s coherent?”

"Not well, took him a few tries for me to understand him, but he's awake. He's freaking out, wanted to know if you're okay."

“That tracks,” I mutter. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

"Like hell you are," Will says, wrapping his arms around me. "What's going through your head?"

“Is this ever gonna stop?” I whisper. “I just feel like… I can never catch a break. It’s constant. It never stops. He’s… he’s been through so much. We… I… I can’t, Will. I can’t.”

"Hey, listen," he murmurs. "We've got him, that's number one. We're taking care of him. Number two, you're okay. I've got you. He's got you. We all do."

“The flashbacks are back,” I say softly, into his chest. 

He takes my chin and pulls it up so I'm looking at him. "When did they come back? Kate, when?"

“The bad ones. Last… last week. They were okay. They were manageable before. These… these aren’t.”

Will's quiet. 

"They started around this time this-" he waves a hand around. "Around the time this did?"

I clench my eyes shut, shivering, nodding. Breathing. I have to breathe. 

"Hey, hey, I've got you. Breathe, Kate. Just breathe. Does he know?"

“He does. He does. I…. I think this… I don’t know, this is dumb, I’m terrified I set him off. He was having a nightmare when I found him. I should have paid more attention to his fever. I just couldn’t. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me, Will, I’m just so deep in my own head, I can’t focus. I can’t focus.”

"Hey, hold on. Slow down," Will says softly. "Kelley told me the nightmares have been happening since. I don't know all of what happened today, but the fever was not your fault. He's not blaming you for anything, so you can't either, Kate."

“Doesn’t stop my anxiety brain from taking over,” I say, letting out a single chuckle. “How is he doing?”

Will looks conflicted. 

"He really should go into the ED, Kate. His fever is still too high and he's too weak to fight it well."

“He didn’t want to go,” I whisper. “He doesn’t want to go. He’s just gonna fight me if we try.”

He stares at me. "Professionally and as a friend, Kate, he should go in. Remember how high your fever was? That's bad. He's compromised enough that it could kill him."

“I stayed. You let me stay. Hell, I was home alone for some of the time. I can stay. I’ll be here with him. Watch him. I’ll do it. I can do it.”

He's frustrated, I can tell. "It's not hard to take him in, Kate, why are you fighting me?"

“He doesn’t want it. He should be allowed to make that decision. He should… he’s had enough decisions taken away from him, he should… he should be allowed to make them. He can’t keep having people making decisions for him, okay? He can’t live in that… in that weird fucking space between. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves to be better and make his own…. His own damn decisions.” I’m out of breath, I’m fucking cold, I need to change, I’m lightheaded. 

Will nods. "Okay. Fine. I see your point. But if his fever hits 103 again, or anything happens, he's going in. No question."

“It won’t,” I say, finally trying to dry myself off. Will just shakes his head at me, stepping out of the bathroom so I can change. 

I can hear them in the bedroom through the wall. 

"Is she okay?" 

"She's Kate," Will says, and I hear a hum. "Hey man, just breathe. Stop moving, just breathe." 

"Tell her… I want to talk to her."

"Fine, I will, but stop moving. It's infected, and you're in pain. Sit the fuck down and shut the hell up."

I slip into the doorway. “I’m here.”

Will looks at me and throws his hands up. 

"Thank goodness, maybe he'll listen to you. I'm going to make tea."

He squeezes my shoulder as he passes, and then it's just us. Just Crockett and I.

“How you doin’?” I ask, my arms crossed tightly over the Saints sweatshirt he gave me. I finally realize. “Oh, God, I gotta get out of this. I can’t be seen in this.”

He shrugs, trying to lay still. "Looks fine from where I'm lookin'."

I make some sort of gag-groan and throw my hands up. “Whatever. Don’t tell Mouse.” I gesture towards the bed, and then decide we’ve been through enough tonight and climb up beside him.

He turns to me, his head lolling a bit. 

"Thanks," he whispers, and his hand is clenching the sheets in discomfort. 

“What can I do?” I whisper, pulling him into my lap once more. 

"Just stay with me," he whispers. "I'm sorry," he says again, and there's tears on his face. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to- to scare you."

“I’m fine. You can’t scare me,” I chuckle. It just comes out dark. “I’ve seen scary shit. You ain’t scary. I just worry about you, alright?”

He says nothing right away, just leaning his head against me, tears sliding down his face. 

"You shouldn't have come for me," he whispers through a groan. "You shouldn't have to deal with this."

“Been through this,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “How many times do I gotta tell you? I’m here—”

“—and you ain’t leavin’,” he mutters, trying to mock my accent. 

“Yeah. You’re starting to get it, aren’t you?”

He reaches up a shaky hand to wipe his eyes. 

"Maybe." He nods, and he leans back into me, his breathing evening out, tears still falling.

Will's watching from the door. "He asleep?"

I brush my fingers over his cheek, wiping the tears from his face. For the first time today, he looks peaceful.

“Yeah,” I muster. “Thanks… thanks for coming, Will.”

He gives me a smirk. “Why is it you’re always collecting the traumatized ones?”

“It’s who I am, Halstead. It’s who I am.”

* * *

_ I Close My Eyes and I Take It In _

**January 25, 2020** **   
** **1936 Hours**   
**210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **   
** **Kate**

I sit at the counter in the kitchen. God, it’s been a helluva last twenty-four hours. But he’s been down for a while now, and I feel like I’m referencing a child. That’s fine. God, am I babysitting? I glance at the sweatshirt. It’s actually kind of comfy. Even if it’s a Saints sweatshirt. 

Hey. At least when I woke up with Crockett, I didn’t have a nightmare.

"Kate…?"

I can hear him down the hall. He doesn't sound like he's in a panic this time. Still, I nearly vault the counter to get to where he is. “Crockett, you good?”

He's sitting up, trying to get to his feet, just a bit flushed. "Y-yeah…"

I’ve picked him up… well, how many times, and I’ll do it again if I have to. “You need help?”

"Yeah, maybe," he mutters. "If you could."

“Where we headed, my dude?” I say, clasping my hands together, then wincing over my fingers. I should have put the splints back on. 

He doesn't miss it, raising an eyebrow at me. "Go get them. Bring them here."

“They are big and clunky. Let me do this first.”

"Fine," he nods. "Couch." 

I get his arm around my shoulders and brace him against my body. I’m getting a little too old for this as my bones creak, but it’s not long before I can set him down on the only other location in the apartment he seems to want to be right now.

"Thanks," he mutters, trying to shove cushions around, one hand still against his wound.

“Can I get you anything?” I say, scratching my head. Fuck. Splints. Maybe. Crockett first.

He looks up at me, squinting. "Help me get this one damn cushion behind my back, then go get those damned splints. And maybe my glasses."

I immediately do what he says, and once he gets relatively comfortable considering, I look around tentatively. “Glasses?”

He sighs. "Bedside table. Then get those splints."

I run over to the table first, and I chuckle. “Crockett, these are ridiculous. You’re a fuckin’ nerd.” I find my splints and toss those on the couch before handing him his glasses.

He slips them on before picking up my splints. "Come here," he says, patting the spot beside him. He's fiddling with the splints.

I sit down and nearly melt into the couch. It’s been rough. It’s fine. I’m fine. 

He holds out a hand for mine. "Present hand," he mutters, focusing. 

“I can’t focus with your ridiculous nineties glasses,” I say, giving him my hand. 

He shrugs. "I refuse to fight with contacts right now." He gently fastens the splints on my one hand, and then moves to my other. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whisper. “I secretly like them.”

He glances up briefly before refocusing. "The glasses?"

“Kinda sexy,” I wink, cringing. “Are we done?”

"One more, hold on," he hums, gently maneuvering one of my fingers. His hand is gentle, and he's carefully bending it back and forth before he slides the splint on. 

"There we go, darlin'," he says, and he's smiling, a little bit flushed. 

Better than pale. 

“You hungry?” I ask. “There’s leftovers.”

He waves his hand back and forth. "Not quite, but you'll make me eat anyway."

“You’re 1000% correct,” I say, heading to the fridge. “Soup time.”

He huffs, but it's a laugh too. 

"Hey, toss me the thermometer?" He calls.

I find it on the counter and think about tossing it behind my back, but then I decide to take it to him. 

He smiles at me as he takes it from me. 

"Thanks, Katie Kat." 

He turns it on, and when it beeps, he chances a look at it before shutting it off and passing it back to me.

“Wanna share with the class there, Marcel?”

He shrugs before borrowing into the couch. "Nothing important. Did I dream it or was Will here last night?"

“What’s your temp?” I say, hands on my hips. Ouch. 

He crosses his arms, then winces as it jostles his probably still sore ribs. 

"Was Will here?"

“What’s your temp? Dude. Don’t test me. I’m Irish and stubborn.”

"101.2" he grumbles, looking away and readjusting. "Happy?"

I squint at him. “Fine. I called in backup, yes.”

He nods. "Kate?"

“Yeah?” I say, halfway back to the fridge. 

"Can I ask a question?" He's quiet. 

“Always, Crockett. Always.”

"How bad?"

“You’re fine now,” I say. “That’s all that matters.”

"Kit Kat, you know I don't work like that," he says, frustrated. "How bad were the flashbacks?"

“Yours or mine?” I mutter. “You know, you know… you’re the only one who can call me that.” I busy myself with the fridge. It’s cool in there. 

"Yours, Kate." 

I look back, and he's staring at me. 

"You weren't okay, Kate," he says slowly. "I don't remember much, it was a haze. But I know you weren't okay. So talk to me. Tell me what happened." 

He's flushed, a little breathless, but the determined glint is in his eye as he points at me, staring over his glasses.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I say. I sigh. He won’t speak as I start putting soup into bowls, into a pot on the stove. 

I look back up. He’s still waiting.

“They’re bad, ‘Kett. It was bad.”

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, still watching me.

“Not your fault,” I say, stirring soup. I’m happy to leave it at that. 

He clearly wants to say more, but doesn't push. He reaches for the remote, groaning when it's almost out of reach. 

"Fuck that," he mutters as he settles back. He flips on the TV, putting on an old Saints-Colts game. 

I groan theatrically. “Boy, you’re in Bears country now, the hell you thinkin’?”

He shrugs restlessly. "I'm a Louisiana boy, darlin'. You can take the boy out of New Orleans, can't take the New Orleans out of the boy." 

He leans his head on the back of the couch as he searches his pockets. I squint at him, but let him be as I finish up warming up the soup. When I get back to the couch, I curl up on the opposite side and offer him one of the bowls.

He holds up a finger as he tries his other pocket. "Kate, I can't find my meds," he says.

“Probably on the bedside table,” I say, setting down the soup bowls on the coffee table. I bounce over his bed, paw around on the table, until I find the bottle. 

“Got it,” I say, heading back into the living room. “Seriously, when is this game from?”

He squints at it, then checks the guide. "December 16th."

“You see this yet?” I say, slipping my feet under me and grabbing a soup bowl. I push his towards him. 

He picks it up carefully, and pops open the prescription bottle. His hands shake a little as he takes it, and he ends up dropping the bottle when he tries to set it down on the table. 

He just sighs. I grab it, close it up, and set it on the coffee table, then go back to shoveling soup in my mouth. 

"I think I watched it already," he says quietly. "Pretty sure I watched it during those few days off Christmas week, after we had it out."

“Still love you,” I say in a singsong voice. “You had to get it out. Kinda like… an infection, you know? Gotta get it out of your system. Feel better when it’s out.”

He chuckles a bit, slowly going at the soup. After a bit he sets it down, rubbing his forehead. "Kate, can you throw me one of the meal replacement shakes from the fridge? Sorry to bother you again."

I hop up, head to the fridge. “What am I lookin’ for?” I say. “Oh. Here we go. Not feelin’ the soup?” 

He shakes his head. "Not really, sorry. Still not the most solid-feeling."

“You okay? Can I do anything?”

"Just a little nauseous," he admits, letting his eyes close.

“Peppermint,” I say. “I mean, probably not the most scientific, but always helps me after…” 

He almost gags. "Don't… not a good idea. Too strong, and I'm pretty sure I'm allergic."

“Good to know, good to know. I’m allergic to some anesthetics at this point. You should… you should probably know that, to be honest.”

He raises an eyebrow. "When you have a chance, please write them down for me so I have a list. And any other allergies."

“What,”I say, smirking. “You think you’re gonna need them? Nah. I’m out of the game, Marcel. Anything I suffer is gonna be hockey related, and if it’s bad enough to need anesthetics, just take me out!” I call.

He shakes his head, cracking a smile. 

"You're crazy, darlin'." He beckons me closer. I scoot closer, setting my finished bowl on the table. 

He wraps an arm around me, pulling me down onto his shoulder. I settle in, until our breaths match. 

“Sorry I freaked out earlier.”

He kisses the top of my head. "I'm sorry for worryin' you. Don't apologize for freakin' out. It's like you just said. Gotta get it out of your system."

“Yeah, gotta practice what I preach, I guess. You know they win this game, right?” 

He nods, glancing at the screen. 

"C'mon Brees, pass it, let's go, man! Get it to Hill, he's right there."

As the touchdown happens, he smiles, leaning back into me. “Gotta get you to a Blackhawks game. Gotta convert you to the holy land, N’awlins.”

He shrugs. "Let me enjoy my hometown, darlin'. I miss it sometimes. Besides. The Saints finished off the season better than the damned Bears did."

I scoff, but I settle into him. “Those are fightin’ words, N’awlins. Fightin’ words. We’ve been to the Super Bowl twice as much as you have.”

"2019 season," he recites, closing his eyes. "Bears finished with a winning percentage of 0.500, Saints finished with an 0.813."

I pout. “Fine. But you won’t take the Cubs from me. Or the Blackhawks. The Bears fucking suck. That cannot be helped.”

"Fine," he snarks back, taking a swig of his shake. "Rub it in my face. I like the Blackhawks, not my fault Louisiana never had a NHL chance."

“I’m gonna convert you yet. Make you a damn convert,” I yawn. “Come on, asshole, that was an incomplete pass, and you know it!” I say, flipping off the television.

He snorts. "Indiana Stewart got hurt that game," he hums. "Pretty sure he'll be back soon enough."

“Well, at any rate, they’re spankin’ the Colts, and that’s one thing we can agree on.”

He shrugs. 

The door rattles, and Kelley practically collapses as she sheds her bag and jacket, throwing her keys on the counter.

"Hey, kids." 

I throw my arm into the air, gesturing for her to cuddle in. “‘sup. How was your shift?”

She sinks in gratefully. "Busy, but we passed the inspection! Flying colors, and drills were almost perfect."

“Good,” I say. “Apparently you already watched this game.”

She shrugs. "'Kett did. I'm a hockey girl. He laughed at me when I watched the Leafs."

I glance to ‘Kett. Kelley hasn’t asked. I’m not sure he wants to tell. And that’s fine with me. But I should head home soon, now that Kelley’s home. Still, I’m tired. It’s been a rough shift.

"Hey Kate? 'Kett?" Kelley says warily. "Someone feel like explaining why Will's hoodie is on the back of a chair and it's half-damp? Because I'd sort of like to know."

“Oh. He came over,” I say, glancing at ‘Kett. “Must have been snowing.”

She nods, giving me an odd look. She reaches past me to Crockett, touching her hand to his face. 

"You've had that fever for a while now," she mutters. "Hold on. Gonna get out of sweaty clothes. Give me one second then I need to ask you two a question." 

She disappears, and Crockett leans into me. "Well, shit. Think Will tattled?"

“If he did, he’ll pay,” I growl. “Rabbit punches. You know the drill.”

Kelley comes back with a suspicious look. "Start talking. There's water all over the bathroom floor, and two sets of soaked clothes in the tub. Why? And why is the med kit spread all over the kitchen counter?"

“Busted,” I breathe, then say full voice, “Would you believe me if I said we had a rave and it went horribly wrong?”

"No. Try the fuck again." This time the blonde is starting to get pissed.

“He had a bad fever. Will and I broke it,” I say, shrugging. 

"How bad we talking?" She growls, crossing her arms.

“It has since been fixed,” I respond.

"Crockett?" She tries, but he shakes his head, laying it on my shoulder. 

"Why didn't you call me?" Kelley cries, glaring at me.

“You were busy,” I say. “You had your shit going on. Didn’t think you would be available, so I called Will in for backup. You know my medical knowledge is for shit.”

She actually stomps her foot. 

"Kate, the fuck? So if I call Will right now, he's gonna tell me everything is fine, that 'Kett's alright?"

I stand up, pinching the bridge of my nose. The headache is coming back. “What do you want me to say? What the fuck do you want me to say? That he had a fever of a 105, and I didn’t know what to do, because I’ve been suffering from my fucking PTSD flashbacks again? Or that I was so out of it, I couldn’t tell that his fever was so bad? And that I called Will because I knew that Crockett wouldn’t want to go to Gaffney, and he was the next best thing? We got him in the tub, we cooled him down, Will dealt with his infected wound, and his fever is down, now. He’s going to be fine, okay? He’s going to be fine. I need everyone to get off my fucking case!”

Kelley looks like she's been punched in the gut. 

"Kate I'm sorry, I… I'm sorry." 

Crockett's hand is squeezing mine. "Kate, darlin' hey-" he tries to stand up beside me. 

“‘Kett, don’t,” I say, both gently helping him back down and trying to wrench my hand from his without hurting him. 

He shoots me a half smile, but his eyes are worried.

I can’t breathe all of a sudden. The white noise is coming back, and I just shake my head. 

“I… I gotta get home. I need to text Mouse. I… I’ll talk to you later.”

I get out the door, and I take a moment to breathe in the hall.

From behind me, I hear Kelley's small voice. 

"What the hell happened?" 

And I hear Crockett's reply, simple but dark.

"Hell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someday we may decide to stop hurting these characters, but today is not that day.


	20. The sun only rises from a dark, dark sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following Crockett's fever breakdown and Kate's emotional breakdown, Crockett pulls a con of his own and forces a confrontation between the four of them. Truths about his attack come out, including Kate's horrific involvement. Still, Kate and Crockett have their own scores to settle, including one with Hank Voight.

_ Answers only come to satisfy why _

**January 28, 2020** **  
** **1832 Hours** **  
** **1111 W 14th Place #122, Little Italy, Chicago** **  
** **Kelley**

"Hey, slow down," I mutter as Crockett tries to walk faster. "You're not fuckin', I don't know… Barry Allen or whoever. You wanted out, Mr. Stir-Crazy-Cabin-Fever, so don't wreck it."

He's frustrated, and he's trying to get to their door. 

I glare at him, and he has to pause for breath as he knocks on the Gerwitz door. He pretty much almost pounds it down, actually. On his next attempt, his fist hangs in the air when Mouse opens it. 

“Hey, guys!” He says joyfully. “Crockett, man, how you doing?”

There’s a bit of a groan from the living room. Mouse glances over his shoulder, but rolls his eyes. 

“Kate’s been a little out of sorts the last week or so. Chockin’ it up to the semester. How are you guys? C’mon in.” 

Crockett is a little wobbly, and I grab his arm as we get in the door. "Told you you pushed too hard," I mutter under my breath. 

Crockett smiles thinly at Mouse. Mouse deftly slips under Crockett’s arm and helps him walk down the hall into the living room. “Hey, Kate, Crockett’s on his feet!”

She barely nods. She… she looks like hell. It’s like she has to swallow a lump in her throat before she can speak. “Hey. Hey, guys.”

It sounds incredibly fake.

My own throat closes up. 

"Kate… has something happened?" I'm suddenly afraid, and I jump forward to hug her, and Crockett's hand is in front of me.

"Kate," he calls lowly. "Can I come over to you?"

Mouse crosses his arms tightly over his chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong,” he says out of the side of his mouth. “She won’t talk about what happened. I can’t get her to open up. I mean, I thought it was classes this whole time, but now I’m not sure. Should I have noticed?” He says, scratching his neck.

I'm afraid. Something's wrong, and only Kate knows. No. The look on 'Kett's face says he knows too. What the hell is happening?

"Kate, darlin'," Crockett says again. "Is it alright if I come closer?"

She seems to break from her thoughts, shaking her head clean. She pulls her hands inside the sleeves of her red hoodie, then just… nods. 

He slowly moves closer, leaning on anything he can. I watch him, and I feel like an interloper.

"Kate, honey." He's whispering as he slowly lowers himself to the floor beside the chair.

“Can’t break it,” she murmurs. “Can’t. Can’t sleep. It’s like… it’s like Landstuhl all over. It’s like Saint Boniface. Can’t sleep, ‘Kett.”

He's on his knees, staring up at her. 

"I'm here, Katie. Let me help. Don't shut me out."

She leans her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands. “No matter what I do, it just comes back. I can’t break the cycle. I can’t. It’s like when Mouse left. I can’t.”

Mouse stiffens. 

I take his hand, rubbing circles over his knuckles. I don't know what's happening, but something is very wrong. 

Crockett is nodding. 

"I'm here. I'm right in front of you. You're here. Kate, where are ‐- where are we?"

She mutters, under her breath. Eventually, her voice starts to break. 

“Home. I’m home.”

"That's right," he murmurs. "You're home. You're here, and I'm with you. Mouse and Kelley are here. Look at me, honey, look."

But she can’t. She won’t. She just holds her head in her hands. More muttering, more whispering, the only thing I can hear is “they don’t know, they don’t know”.

Crockett leans closer. "I'm going to touch you, honey," he warns, and then his hands are laying gently on hers.

I slip my arm around Mouse.

“She’s talking about what happened, isn’t she?” He says, almost sharply. “She never told me. All I know... “ he shakes his head. “She wasn’t a consultant, was she?”

One of Crockett's hands comes up sharply, waving him quiet. He never looks away from Kate. 

I drop my voice, whispering to Mouse. 

"I think so," I say, and I feel sick. I don't know. 

"Kate, honey," Crockett says again. "Look at me, hon."

She looks at him, but I know the expression. She’s looking through him.

He just leans his forehead gently to hers, his hands covering her own. 

"Stay here, honey, stay here with me," he whispers.

Mouse just takes my arm, almost sharply, and starts pulling me to the other end of the apartment, all the way to their bedroom. He shuts the door, leaning against the wood. 

“What the hell is going on?”

I shake my head, lost. "I don't know, Mouse. All I know is the other day, she stayed with 'Kett while I was on shift, and I left, he was a little sick, but then I got back and I found out…" I take a breath and I remember Kate's words. "His fever spiked, and she called Will, and she was having flashbacks, oh God, Mouse, she was having flashbacks and I never saw, and I got mad because she didn't call me-" I'm rambling, and I'm pacing and I feel like I've done something bad to my best friend.

He just sits down on the edge of their bed, defeated. “Kelley, I didn’t see it either.”

I stop in the middle of the floor and I look at him. 

"I don't know what happened that day," I hear myself say. "But something happened to both of them."

“Kel, I gotta find out. I don’t know how bad this is, what we’re dealin’ with. You need to find out too. Crockett….” He just shakes his head, runs his hand over his wrist, adjusts the cuff and watch on his left. “We need to know if we’re gonna help. And there’s a reason they’re keepin’ it from us. It ain’t good.”

I nod, and I launch myself into his lap for a moment, trying to ground myself. "Mouse, I'm scared. I feel like they're slipping away."

“We need to go out there,” he says. “We need to find out. We should.”

I nod. And I don't want to. He picks me up, sets me back on my feet like I weigh nothing, and opens the bedroom door. He’s halfway to the living room, seemingly mad, when he stops. 

Kate just sobs. 

I freeze, and I look to Mouse. I can't panic. I can't. I hear Crockett, whispering. Singing? It's so quiet I can't tell.

“We gotta tell them,” Kate says, halfway between broken cries. “We gotta. I… my own damn advice. I gotta.” She’s nearly hyperventilating, clutching to Crockett, when she blurts out, “I killed the guy who took Crockett. I nearly killed the other.”

I go numb. I take Mouse's hand but I can't feel his in mine. I can't feel anything. 

I feel nothing, but I can see everything.

"You… you did what?"

Mouse just sighs. “She killed Crockett’s kidnapper. And that’s why you had broken fingers, isn’t it? You beat the shit out of the other guy.”

He’s getting angry. And Kate looks up to him, red eyed in fear. 

Crockett pulls her closer, glaring up at Mouse, and he shifts ever so slightly, so he's almost between them. 

I grip Mouse's hand tighter. 

“My mouth tastes like sand,” Kate announces, her voice shaking. “Let me… let me think, dammit. Let me think!”

Crockett lays his cheek on her forehead. "Take it through. Right here. I'm right here," he says lowly. "Right here, darlin', take me through with you."

She has fistfuls of his shirt. She heaves a little, and although she doesn’t look like she’s going to let go anytime soon, she unclenches her eyes, still unfocused.

“Voight called me. Voight called, and I came. He… he had that tone of voice, you know, how… how he gets when shit’s about to go down? I… I got my piece and went. I didn’t ask. I should have asked. I should have fucking asked.”

Crockett's eyes have glazed over, and I almost wonder if he's there, there in the memory with her, just like he said. He's holding her. "There you go," he whispers. "You're doin' it, darlin'."

“I was immediately there. Back… back in Afghanistan. It was happening again, I couldn’t stop it. Warehouse…” Her voice cracks again. “Warehouse in Canaryville. I knew which one. Morgan… Morgan Street. He shouldn’t have... “ She breaks immediately, looking panicked. “Hank can’t know. You.. you can’t know. He’ll… he’ll lose it. I can’t. He’ll lose it. This was… this was so fucking illegal…but I had to, I had to. It was Crockett. I had to. There wasn’t a choice. Not a choice.”

Crockett's silent, but his tears are landing in her hair. 

I'm numb, and I can't look at Mouse. He’s practically staring at the wall. 

"He asked me how far I would see it through. To the end, I said. The bitter end. I was gonna protect Kelley in the car, but he asked, he had me come with him. He... I covered him. Gave me… gave me gloves. God, I thought… I thought it would be a great story, my God, what the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck?!”

"You're here, honey," I hear Crockett like he's in a fog. "Take it through, baby, take me through with you."

"We cleared it. We cleared the warehouse. He was negotiating with... with the asshole. Voight gave me his gun. He gave me the clear. I fucking... I shot the guy. I shot him. And I didn't feel a thing. I didn't. Not a thing. Just… just the aftermath.”

Crockett's breath stops for a moment. I'm staring at Kate but I'm unfocused. 

"Keep goin', darlin', no point in stoppin' in the middle. I'm with you."

"The gunshot. That's... that's what... that's why. So loud. So close. So... so..." She starts to hyperventilate again. "Keep pressure on the wound. GSW. I was... I was calculating the time... the time it would take from 51 to Canaryville to Gaffney. Voight… I… the bullet. It… I hesitated but it wasn’t because… not… I was trying to find where the blood was coming from.” She looks at her hand, flexing her shaking fingers. 

Crockett ever-so-gently takes her hand, laying it on his chest. "Breathe. Match me, darlin'. We're gettin' there."

"So pale. Ashy grey. I just. That was the scary.. that's what...." she clears her throat, trying to breathe. "Got in the car. Went to Gaffney. I was just covered in... in blood. Covered in blood again. The code. Couldn’t get the blood from my hands. Then Jay… he just…. He flipped. He flipped out. Called me a civilian.” She scoffs. “Furthest thing from a civilian.”

Crockett is swallowing, and I can't look at him, he's crying, but he's calm. 

"You're doin' so good, cher," he says so quietly.

"That's when I got there," Mouse whispers. "Said something about an unsanctioned op. Told me she was a consultant. And then she and Voight up and left.”

“We went to talk to Crockett,” she says, her eyes even more unfocused now. “He tried… he apologized,” she says, talking almost like he wasn’t clutching tightly to her as she spoke. “I’m not a civilian. Haven’t been for a while. I took an oath, you know. Took an oath. Against all enemies, foreign and domestic.”

Crockett nods against her head. 

I never knew. I never thought. 

"C'mon, cher, you're doin' fine…"

"Crockett crashed again. Lanik.. pager. Surgery. I wanted... I had to go after them. I told Hank. I wasn’t gonna stop until they were all… dead, or—or in jail. I didn’t care. I wanted them. _ I _wanted them. Not the team. We went to Trudy. Voight and I. We went. 45th Street. Davis Square Park. I remember seeing the Silos.”

Crockett's breath is picking up, but I can see the determination mixing with defeat in his eyes. "C'mon, darlin', doin' so well."

"We breached the house. Cuffed the one guy. The driver, he... he taunted me. Came at me. Called me out. He knew where I worked," She says in disbelief. “He knew where I worked! I… I gave Voight my gun. I gave him my gun,” she seems like she doesn’t even believe herself. “I planned on it. I planned on… I beat him. I beat the shit out of him. I didn’t want to stop. He… he said he was following ‘Kett since October. First… the first. The first time.”

I can't help the gasp. The first time? The… when he was attacked? He never spoke about it again. 

Crockett glares at me, and I grab onto Mouse. 

"Kate, doin' good, honey. Almost there," 'Kett whispers.

"Hyoid bone. Breaking under my hand, death in minutes, at least. Not a medical professional." She's gone to sentence fragments now. "Knocked him out. Broke fingers. I, Kaitlyn Elen Gerwitz, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Blood on my hands again."

"Good," he whispers. "Doin' good."

"Confirmed it was over. They couldn't get him again. Couldn't. Didn't kill him, though. Didn't. Couldn't. Crockett... in my head. Fuckin' moral compass."

He sniffs, and another tear falls, but that's the only noise he makes.

“I made a promise,” She whispers. “I made a promise and I keep my promises. Keep my promises. Keep…”

Her shaking hands clutch onto his arm as she starts to fall limp.

"I've got you, darlin'," he says, his voice heavy. "You're almost through."

“I can’t stop seeing it, “ she says. “It’s in my head. I.. don’t regret it. I don’t… I did everything right,” she says, this time with conviction. “Dammit, I would fucking do it again. I would do it all again, and again. But I can’t shake it. I can’t.”

Crockett just pulls her closer, and he's shaking, I can see it. He just holds her as tight as he can. 

"Anythin' else, honey?" He whispers, and his voice almost breaks. Almost.

“Thought I was okay. Thought I could hold it off. Other night, at Crockett and Kelley’s, I just. I lost it. I.. I lost it. Couldn’t get out. Can’t get out.”

"Right here," he reminds her. "Right here, darlin'."

“I shouldn’t have kept it in,” She finally says, almost a hazy whisper. “I should have told you.”

Crockett's eyes are closed, and he just rocks her. "Gotta get it out-" he whispers. "Gotta… gotta get it out."

Mouse sinks to the floor, in front of Kate, and she finally looks at him like she’s ashamed. 

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me?” He murmurs. She immediately shakes her head.

“You.... no. No. You’ve dealt with enough. You don’t need anymore,” she says, her voice shaking. 

“Kate, it’s _ me _,” he says, his voice breaking. “I know more than anyone. I know how you feel, I’ve been there!”

“I was so scared,” she whispers. “I didn’t want… after Saint Boniface, you left. I didn’t want… I couldn’t… I was so scared. I was so scared.”

He deflates, sinking so his back hits the couch. He seems to build to some anger, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose, and he moves to speak, but lets out a breath and tries again. 

“You see this?” He says, pulling his wedding band off his finger. He gently pulls open her hand, placing it inside. “For better, for worse. Sickness and health.” He gets on his knees in front of her, places his fingers on her chin, making her tear stained face look at him. Her eyes are so red, I’m surprised she can see. 

“I. Am not. Leaving.”

I watch, and I have to sit.

I will her to say something. Anything. But she doesn’t. Instead, she shakily pulls herself from Crockett’s grasp. Still holding his ring tightly in her hand, she very nearly crawls into his lap. The tears start again, quieter this time, as he strokes her hair with one hand. He reaches out towards ‘Kett with his other hand.

I watch as Crockett eases himself closer, taking his hand gently. He looks over to me, gesturing with his head to come closer.

I inch forward, and I'm tiny, but my arms wrap around them. With a wince, Crockett lowers himself to the floor, and he pulls all three of us into him.

We all stay connected until Kate’s sobbing finally slows, and then stops. 

And we stay connected still, even in the silence.

* * *

_You gotta wind up to get unwound_

**February 1, 2020  
1012 Hours**   
**Lou Mitchell's, Chicago**   
**Kate**

I head into our usual haunt. Lou Mitchell’s isn’t too busy this time of day, so that’s fine. I don’t know if I could handle a lot of people right now. I just gotta find Crockett. I feel like I should put a tracker on him or something. I know Mouse has one on me.

It’s not a creepy thing. It’s not something he’s constantly monitoring. I just manage to get myself into bad situations. 

Wait, is that how he found me for the bachelorette party—

Where the fuck is Crockett?

"Katie Kat, hey!" 

He slides in front of me, grinning.

“Oh! Hey. Wow. Okay. You’re in a good mood.”

He shrugs. "Close enough. How are you?"

“Good enough," I say, kissing his cheek. “Find us a table?”

He starts yanking me towards one, then looks at me sheepishly. "Oh, uh, Voight's stopping in. He's like, three minutes out."

“Oh? Didn’t know y’all were friends. Cool. Love him. Let’s do this.”

He pulls out a seat for me, gesturing to it. "For you, Captain."

“Finally, some good fucking service,” I mutter, sliding into the chair. “Seriously. You’re in a great mood, what’s goin’ on?”

"Absolutely nothing," he sighs. "Kelley made that damn coffee. I hate Mouse. For that reason."

“Oh, this is glorious. I love this. Yes. Okay, I can work with this, you hyper, hyper boy,” I say. I’m actually kind of relieved. I can handle that. “Where’s this menu…”

He slides into his own chair, a heavy breath coming from him. "Oof." 

"Coffee makes my damn meds crazy."

“You feelin’ okay?” I immediately ask. “How’s your.. Your whole situation.”

He shrugs. "It's healin'. More tired as hell than anything. Think I've slept maybe an hour at a time."

I harrumph. “I know the feeling,” I grumble, looking at the menu. “I know that feel all too well.”

"You doin' okay?"

“Huh? I’m fine. I’m fine,” I murmur. “Would it be weird to get a burger right now?”

"Like hell if I know," he says, at the same time I hear a gruff, "Get the damn burger, Gerwitz," from behind me. Almost like instinct sets in, I stand up at the sound of his voice. 

“Oh. Hey, Hank.”

He smiles at me, a tough, half smile. 

He turns a stern eye to Crockett. "Marcel," he says with a nod, and then looks back to me. "How are you?" He asks, his voice dropping low.

“Just… frickin’ peachy,” I say almost under my breath. “I’m fine, Hank. I’m fine.”

"Like hell you are," he humphs. "You sure you're good? I don't like lies."

“I would absolutely love for people to stop asking me how I’m doing today, alright?” I say, looking at the menu. “I’m about to be not fine if someone asks me if I’m fine.”

"Then how are you feelin'?" Hank asks. "Hey, I asked 'feelin', not 'doin'."

I close my eyes. I know Crockett’s all hopped up on the Q, but I feel it. I see it when I close my eyes at night. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in … who knows how long. Because I can still see my hand in his side piecing him back together again.

“Hank, you’ve put me between a rock and a hard place,” I say, gritting my teeth. “You don’t want me to lie to you, but you keep askin’ me a question I can’t answer right now.”

"There's always an answer," he says lowly. "Might not be the final answer, but it's the answer right this moment. So spit it out."

I take a sharp, shaky breath, and all I can do is look at Crockett.

He looks _ furious. _

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice breaking. 

"Kate," Crockett says quietly. "Breathe. Breathe, for me."

I hold the bridge of my nose for a second, breathing. “Goddammit, I just want breakfast food, not an inquisition.”

He exhales sharply. "I'll take care of it," he insists, glaring at Hank. "You order what you want, and I'll have his head on a stick."

He says it so sweetly, too.

“Woah. Okay. What the hell is going on here?” I ask. 

"Oh, just redirecting the damn inquisition," he growls, trying to stand up again. I stand up too, trying to reach out and help him.

“Crockett, what the hell?”

He takes a second to breathe, leaning on the table. "I'll resume anger in like, a minute," he mutters. "Still working on the whole 'slowing down and not thinking I'm superman because I'm up and walking.'"

I’m panicked suddenly. I draw a quick breath, and I sit down hard, back onto the seat. Nope, don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. That wound. The pain on his face. You’re not there anymore. You’re here. 

"Stop that," he snaps. "Stop that damn internal monologue. It's making it worse for you. Knock it off."

“Don’t you think I’m fuckin’ trying?” I snap. It’s louder than I want it to be. “Don’t you think I would turn it off if I could? C’mon. I can’t. You should know that. I can’t turn it off. All I can see is… is you, and my hand…” I ball it up into a fist, and then I put it under the table. I don’t want to look at it.

"I know damn well, that's why I'm trying to bring it to your attention," he says sharply. "You're getting lost in your own damn head, and it's messing you up. Knock it the hell off."

I hold my head in my hands. My head is pounding. Crockett, he…. He’s not fucking helping. All he’s doing is pissing me off. 

All I can hear are the gunshots. I should have stopped it. I should have stopped it soon enough, so he didn’t get shot. I should have shot the guy when I came in. I don’t care if I would have been in jail. It would have been worth it. 

I’m getting dizzy, and the smell of coffee is only making me feel sick.

"Kate?" Hank says tentatively. "You good?"

“Stop! Stop fucking asking me that question! I am not good! I have never been good! You know that more than anyone else! God!” 

I can’t let myself drift down that snow encased highway. I can’t let myself slide down that dirty Afghanistan road. That aisle in an abandoned, fiery church. I can’t let myself find that warehouse in Canaryville. Stop. Stop it, KC. No, Kate. You’re Kate now. Stop. 

"Katie Kat, hey, look at me?" Crockett says, and his hand is on mine. I rip it out from under him. 

“No. Stop. Just… both of you.” I stumble to my feet. “I have to go. I can’t…. I have to go.”

I hear Crockett call my name, and Hank try to step in front of me.

“Hank, get the fuck out of my way.”

"Nope," he says, hands in his pockets. "You're not okay, Kate. Like hell I'm letting you go."

I shove him before I realize I’m doing it. It’s not hard. It’s just hard enough to get past him. I can hear my name from two voices calling me as I head out the door. 

I can barely breathe. All I can see is desert camo.

* * *

**Crockett **

I can barely breathe. All I can see is Kate's shaking hands.

I look at Hank Voight, and I'm damn well shaking, I'm so angry.

"Now that that's blown up in my face, it's your turn, sergeant," I say lowly, motioning for him to follow me outside. 

I take him through the same back door Kate brought me through. The day I was lost in my own mind, in the panic, and I could barely breathe.

Now I can't breathe again, but I'm lost in the anger.

I let the door shut behind us, and I stare at him in the February morning. 

"Sergeant, you were directly responsible for getting me out of that damned warehouse and I thank you for that, I do. From the bottom of my heart. But why, in all holy hell, would you involve Kate Cavanagh Gerwitz? Nothing screamed that it was a horrible idea? Nothing?"

I'm furious. I can't help it. 

"I needed someone who-"

"Who _ what, _ Voight? Who knew how to shoot? Who you knew was willing to take less than legal measures? Good Lord, Hank, if you knew the damn toll this has taken on Kate, you'd feel sick. _ I _feel sick." I can't stop yelling. Why can't I stop yelling? 

"I just knew she knew you, and that she and your sister might feel better knowing they had involvement." 

"She could have died, Hank. She could've been shot. You thought bringing her in was a good idea? You think this, watching me get shot in front of her, didn't trigger more damn flashbacks? She broke apart in front of me three days in a row, Hank," I say, stabbing a finger into his face. "I was terrified I couldn't break her out of it."

"You did," he says softly, and I huff. 

"Not the damn point! Hank, whatever good idea you thought you had, I'm almost wondering, did your conscience even think that through? Or do you not have one anymore?" It's a low blow, I'm aware.

But I'm too angry to care. 

"I-" he starts, then stops, glaring at me. "I don't have one good answer for you."

"Oh? Then what was that bull you spouted to Kate just now? 'There's always an answer. Might not be the final answer, but it's the answer right this moment.' That the one?" 

I'm done with the blank look on his face. The mask. 

I shake my head, and my hand touches the spot where I was hit. 

"I'm alive right now," I say quietly. "I have you and Kate to thank. But if I had to do it again, I'd rather it was just you. I'd rather bleed out on the floor than put her through that. Think harder next time, Voight," I spit the words, pushing past him. 

I leave him in that back alley. 

And I'm too angry to care.


	21. Nobody said it was easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although the truth is raw, it's the only way they can all move forward.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry_

**February 5, 2020  
1723 Hours  
1111 W 14th Place #122, Little Italy, Chicago  
Kate **

I need to get up. I should get up, but there’s not much I can do right now. 

They’re bad again. I know I told them what happened. I know we discussed it, but I still can’t get over what happened at the brunch that never occurred. 

It’s been bad since. I don’t think Crockett realized how hard he made it on me. 

For the first time, he just made it worse.

There's a knock on the front door, then I hear it open.

“Mouse, I swear I’m getting up,” I mutter from the couch. “I promise I’m not moping.”

"Kate, it's me," I hear Crockett's voice. He comes around the corner, not meeting my eyes. 

I cocoon into the couch, into my blanket. “Crockett, what do you want.”

He puts the bag on the counter, unloading containers into the fridge. He doesn't answer.

I don’t answer either. I can play the long game. I can smoke him out. Or, at least, not talk to him until he leaves. 

"Not leaving," he says heavily.

“I’m not either, so we’ve got ourselves a problem, I guess.”

"I'm sorry."

“For what?” I harrumph. 

"For all of it. For putting you on the spot. For pissing you off."

“Why?” I say. “Why? Is it because I haven’t spoken to you since then? Or maybe the fucking spiral I’ve gone on since then? Hmmm?”

He kneels on the floor beside the couch, reaching to brush my hair back. I push his hand away. It’s not hard, but it’s insistent. I don’t want it. Not right now. 

He sighs, sitting down on the floor near my head. 

"I knew I shouldn't have gotten Voight involved. Shouldn't have started flipping on him around you. Shouldn't have done any of it. Shouldn't have snapped at you," he mutters. 

“Voight didn’t tell me to come. He asked me. I’m the one who chose. I’m the one who brought my piece. Me. I made that decision.”

"He shouldn't have asked in the first place!"

“I’m the one who knew where you were. I’m the one who led them there when time was running short. Me. You’d be dead without me.”

"If this is the toll saving me takes on you, I'd prefer that, actually," he says flatly. "Told Hank that, too."

“Ha. No. Nope. Not on my watch. No. Not gonna happen. Not… not on my watch.” Oh, look at that, I’m getting hysterical. 

"Kate, stop, you need to breathe," he says softly, reaching for my hand.

I see it, I register it, but all I can think of are my own. Holding him together. I would do it again. I would. I would. 

I try to reach for him, but I’m shaking, and all I see is double. 

"Kate," he says, taking my hands in his. "I've got you." 

“And I had you, and you won’t… you keep telling me I shouldn’t have, so what’s the fucking deal?!”

"Because I'm watching you fall apart, and I don't know what to do!" He sighs forcefully, and drops his voice. "I don't know what to do. If this is the consequence, I would far rather be dead than you come through that warehouse door and have to hold me together with your damn hands."

“You don’t get it!” I cry. “I’ve already done shit like this! Whether it’s Iran or Afghanistan or Iraq, this is my past! You haven’t changed anything by it happening to you! I already see this shit when I close my eyes!”

"You were happier before," he says quietly. 

“You didn't know me before,” I say sharply. 

"Good to know," he mutters, settling back to the floor.

“You met me after all this. After the Army. That’s what I mean. Not… not that I’ve been lying, or… or playing a part. I just… I’m not who I was.”

"Well, I was trying to say, you were happier before this shit happened. You were still happy about being married. I'm sorry I got taken and fucked y'all's lives up."

“You’re fucking _impossible,” _I cry, getting up from the couch. 

He stays still. "I'm sorry."

“Crockett, these feelings, they don’t just go away. They’re always there. Always. Right here,” I say, pointing at my chest. “There’s nothing you can do about it. And if you need my help, I’m gonna be there. I’m not sorry. I’m not gonna apologize. If you need me, I will be there. And you needed me. Plain and simple.”

"I don't know how to help _you _," he says, and there's tears on his cheeks. 

“Stop… stop fucking telling me that I shouldn’t have come for you. Stop telling me I shouldn’t have. Stop making me feel like you never wanted this. You make me feel like you never wanted me to save you. And that’s the worst.”

He makes one damn noise that sounds like he's angry and crying at the same time.

"Might've been easier, but I'm glad you did."

“You know I’m never one to do things easy,” I grumble. “I’m not. What’s easy isn’t always what’s right. And you of all people know that. I can’t. I’m not going to. Not gonna make it easy. I can’t lose you, too. And I’ll do whatever I have to. You know I can. You know what I’m capable of.”

He stares up at me. "I'm sorry if I've made it worse," he says hesitantly. "I was blinded by pain and anger at Hank, and I know you weren't… weren't happy with me at Lou's the other day."

“No. You kept pushing me. You kept pushing me, and that wasn’t fair.”

"I'm sorry I did. I'm sorry," he tells me. "I am so, so goddamn sorry."

“I know you’ve been hurting,” I say. It comes out a little too sharp. “I know. I’m… I’m sorry. I just. I don’t regret what I did. I don’t. I want you to know that. That was my choice. Mine. My choice.” I’m breathing a little harder now. “I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t. I’ve done it, I did it, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

"I just want you to be okay," he whispers. "And I don't know what to do to help. Every time I do, I make another mistake."

I slide back down on the couch. “Just… just be there. And don’t question me. I make my own choices. I’ll follow you to Hell and back if I had to. And that’s not your choice. It’s mine.”

He reaches his hand up from where he's on the floor. "Forgive me?" He says, raw and quiet. 

I take his hand without question. “Always.”

He slowly hauls himself up off the floor, easing onto the couch beside me, his hand still in mine. 

He's quiet for a moment. I curl up into him, trying not to hurt him, but I need to be close. 

“I’m sorry I’m so fucked in the head.”

"Don't have to be sorry," he says, pulling me close. "I won't have to see what you've seen, you've been that line of defence. I just want you to know how much I want to help. You were the country's defence. Let me help be yours."

I feel the tears on my face. I can’t stop it at this point. “I just want to help you,” I repeat. “It’s the only thing I know how to do. It’s the only thing I can do.”

He rocks me gently. "And I just want to help you. I was… I've been… the last few days," he sighs. "Just, let me help," he finally whispers. 

“We can’t keep fighting each other like this,” I whisper. “It’s not fair. We gotta band together, but fight over shit.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "I'm trying. I'm trying to not push everyone away. Don't let me push you away. Don't let me."

“I won’t, as long as you don’t let me push you, either.”

"You got it," he nods. "I love you, Kate. So much."

“I love you, too, Crockett. Don’t you ever forget it.”

And as he kisses my forehead again, he nods. "I won't." He pauses for a moment. "I brought food," he says shyly. "Mashed potatoes too."

“Mashed potatoes?” I ask hopefully. 

"Always. Always, for you. On one condition."

I look at the kitchen hopefully. “I’m ready for this condition.”

He chuckles, standing up, then looks at me seriously. "Tell me when something's wrong. Don't have to explain, if you don't want to. Just signal me somehow. Okay?" 

I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Yeah. Same… same for you, okay?”

He nods, brushing back my hair softly. I breathe. For the first time in weeks, I can breathe.

* * *

_Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions_

**February 7, 2020  
1824 Hours  
210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
Crockett**

I lean forward, trying to inch the barstool forward. Kelley shoved it by the stove and me into it. "You supervise, and you stir. I'll do everything else."

As I Iean over the stove, the steam hits my face, fogging up my glasses.

Kelley's mashing the potatoes and one of these days I will try to understand her obsession with brutalizing foodstuffs. Today is not that day.

I finish searing the chicken and get it in the pan, moving back to let Kel get it in the oven. 

She stands there for a moment before turning to look at me where I'm leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Hey," she says, wrapping her arms around me gently. "How are you doing?" 

As I shrug, she reaches up, her hand on my cheek. "Honestly. Please don't keep lying to me, Crockett." 

"I'm okay," I say, and I'm getting there. I think she sees it in my eyes, and she nods, resting her head on my chest. 

We stay like that until we hear the door, and she pulls back, shooting me a nervous smile. 

I turn back to the oven, and I can't help but fumble with the dishcloth. 

I haven't seen either of them since, and I feel like I'm flying blind. 

I hear Mouse first. “Hey, Kel! Oh. What is that _smell _.” 

And then, just a few decibels lower than normal, Kate: “Wait. Mashed potatoes?”

I smile, just a bit, and I feel like half the anxiety is gone. 

I move slowly, trying to carry the pot to the table, and I look up as they come around the corner. Kate doesn’t say anything, she just immediately moves to take the pot from my hands, then hisses over the heat after she sets it down. 

I take a moment to rest, then smile at her. "Thanks, darlin'," I say quietly, holding out my hand to her. She takes it, then pulls me into a hug. A sigh—what feels like an existential sigh—slips through her.

“Hey, Crockett.”

"I'm glad you're here," I whisper.

“Thanks for having us,” she says. “I’m sorry for how I acted. I’m not sorry for what I had to say. But I’m sorry I reacted like that.”

"Thanks for being honest." There's a lump in my throat, and I have to try and swallow it to even breathe. "Thanks for coming. Then and now. I owe you."

“You owe me nothing,” she says, touching my cheek. She actually smiles. It looks mostly genuine. “You stay here with me, that’s all I need.”

"Only if you stay in the present with me," I say softly, my hand coming up to cover hers.

“Doin’ better,” she says. “Doin’ better. Think I had to get it out, you know? Like… keeping it inside wasn’t doin’ it for me anymore.” She lets out a single chuckle.

I brush a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm glad."

“Oof,” she says, wiping tears from her face. “What can I do?” She says, looking over the table. In fact, she eyes the mashed potatoes and smiles again, just a little. 

I hide a smile, and brush a hand down her hair and over her shoulders, pressing gently between her shoulder blades. 

"Mashed potatoes."

“Where’s everyone else’s potatoes?” She giggles, looking back to Mouse. He’s fussing in the kitchen with Kelley, wielding some sort of utensil against her. He catches her eye and just winks.

I smirk, stepping back to the stove. I check the timer on the chicken, and set the pitcher of water out. 

I have to sit down for a second, and I watch them.

“anything I can do?” Kate asks Kelley, using her hip to bounce Mouse out of her way. 

Kelley points at me.

"Ask the supervisor. I just do the layman's work."

“Crockett. Use me. I know what I’m doing,” she says.

“She does,” Mouse says, nodding. “She’s a helluva cook.”

"I don't know what else I need to do," I shrug. "We're just waiting for the chicken." 

I'm fiddling with my glasses, and I'm not sure when I took them off, but I slip them back on, smiling crookedly at Kate.

“Stop taunting me with those,” she says, pointing at me accusingly. “They’re not fair.”

“They’re hot,” Mouse confirms. “You got that hot nerd look goin’ for you. How you feeling?”

I shrug. "Second post-op tomorrow, we'll see. Should be able to go back to work in a couple days." 

"Like hell you will!" Kelley calls from where she's fiddling with the stereo. 

I gesture to her, rolling my eyes. "Do you see the opposition I have to deal with?" I ask Mouse, mocking offense.

“Hey, if you gotta heal, you gotta heal,” Mouse shrugs. “Trust me. It’s easier to just do it. Kate’ll kick both of our asses.”

Kate nods.

I internally kick myself. 

"Chicken's almost done," I say, turning away to peer at the stove. 

I wait, ready to pull it out. Kate hovers behind me, watching. Waiting. 

I can _feel _her eyes boring into my skull. 

"Kate," I hum. "Hot stuff coming through in a moment, clear a path."

She takes about half a step back. Mouse sighs and gently pulls her more.

“Give the man some room.”

“Chicken, though,” she whines. 

I pull the chicken to the front of the rack, and I'm about to lift it when I think better, and I sigh. 

"Can I have a hand please…" I sigh as I straighten up and step back.

Kate is immediately there, lurking. Whatever was on her mind before, she’s lost it, the unbridled joy on her face. 

I pass her the pot holders, and I step back. 

I'm a bit frustrated. Not the time, Marcel.

“Mine now,” Kate says, trotting off in a different direction. Mouse takes her shoulders and guides her to the table, rolling his eyes. 

I snort, following them. Kelley's hand on my back reminds me. 

As we sit down, I pin that reminder in a spot I can remember it, and I reach for Kate's and Kelley's hands. 

Kate grasps mine tightly. As she looks down, I see the touch of a smile. This time, completely genuine. 

"Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen," I hear Kelley say, her voice soft, and as I cross myself, murmuring "Amen," I smile. I can see Kate and Mouse from the corner of my eye. Kate crosses herself quickly, but Mouse takes his time. 

Kate watches me, her eyes darting towards the potatoes. 

“You know, the last couple days, all I could really eat were crackers, Spaghettios, and Gatorade, so those potatoes? They’re singin’ to me. They’re singin’, Crockett,” she says. It’s so nonchalant, and she’s so flippant with it, it’s almost jarring. 

I raise my eyebrow at her, and I smile again. Good. I'm a bit less worried.

The little reminder pokes at me, and I clear my throat. I have to clear my throat twice, through my sudden nerves as I wait for their attention.

“Crockett,” Kate says, her hands going to her lap. “Say what you gotta.”

I shrug and now that she said that, there's a whole damn lot I want to say. There's a mess of words in my head -- what's that word Kate used so long ago? Maelstrom, I think -- and suddenly my thought is lost. I want to ask the question I was going to, but I desperately want to try and express the damned hurricane in my mind. The anxiety, and the gratitude. No. Not now, Marcel. Not now. 

I blink, and I realize I've been lost in my head as I look around at them.

And I realize something else: they’re all waiting. Patiently. Kindly. Knowing I need a minute to speak. Knowing I need some time.

I clear my throat for the third time, and finally I can speak.

"The last two weeks have been a fuckin' shitshow," I say, and I realize I'm clutching a fistful of the tablecloth. I force myself to let go.

"We've had a hell of a time," I say, and the words are choking me. The sooner I say it the better. I smile a bit, and I meet Kate's eyes.

Kate stiffens. And then she nods. “But it doesn’t need to stay that way. And it won’t.”

I nod. "Exactly. I wasn't plannin'… I didn't plan on sayin' this, but I need to, because you need to know it." I'm speaking to _her. _She's the one who gets to know. "You saved me." I blink away the damn tears in my eyes, and I smile again. "You came for me. You saved me. Thank you. Thank you, darlin'." There's so much more, but that's… that's all that needs to be said about it. I can rest easy knowing she knows. I think she knows everything else I would've said anyway. God, I hope I said the right thing.

She sits, processing. Letting it run it over in her mind. I can tell from her expression that a million things, thoughts, are zipping through. She opens her mouth a few times, shuts it, and then speaks. 

“You’re family. You’re family, and I would never…” she chokes a little, then regains herself, seemingly finding a different train of thought. “You’re welcome,” she finally says. “You’re welcome.”

I smile a bit, and I look down, my fingers rubbing over the St. Luke medal around my neck. 

"Well. Okay. Now that that's been said," I clear my throat again - God, I'm tired of doing that - and nod. "I have a question."

“I would love the mashed potatoes, thank you,” Kate says, smirking. 

I hum, glancing over my glasses at her. "Help yourself, I ain't no waiter, darlin'."

She sticks out her tongue at me and nearly vaults at the mashed potatoes. Mouse nearly chokes on his water. 

“I’m listening to your question,” Mouse says, smiling at me. It’s more than just a good-natured grin. It’s the shared smile between family. Brothers, even.

I sigh. "I have a charity gala at Gaffney coming up. It's a fundraiser, and the ED staff have pledges we need to collect. It's a ritzy lot of potential donors, and we might get enough money to fix up the ED enough, redo an OR, maybe even buy a few more ventilators. Or of that sort." I'm rambling, and Kelley lays her hand on mine. 

After I take a breath, I continue. "I'd really love if you two came. I feel like such a stranger at these things, and Kelley's going to be there but as a manager, and in a way I'll be on my own."

Kate says something, but it’s muffled by potato. 

“What my wife is saying is, ‘do you have a goal?’” Mouse deadpans.

"We're being 'strongly urged'--" I roll my eyes with air quotes- "to as an ED team, reach $1.1 million by the end of the night." I hate fundraising, I don't know if it shows.

Kate finally stops shoveling, getting serious. “How many people are gonna be there, how many people are doing the asking?” When Mouse says, “Do I have to dress up?”

I pause, both questions hitting at the same time, and I blank, my intense hatred of the event not helping. 

"There were eighty-five formals sold, and yes, tuxedos, and probably just the ED tickets asking," I don't know what I'm saying. 

“Can I wear my uniform?” Mouse says slyly, seemingly translating. Kate seems to try to do math in her head but it’s not working. 

"Uniform is good," I hear myself say, and I'm fighting off the headache I get every time I think about this event, and I'm muttering before I even know I am. "When I was an ED head, at least I got a pass on this, I miss that one part, damn it all to hell…"

“When is it?” Mouse asks. 

“Oh, we’re going,” Kate says. “I’m just trying to figure out how much I need to snag to win.”

"Uh…." I say, staring off behind Mouse.

"February 15th," Kelley says. 

“What do you think?” She asks Mouse. “100 to win?”

“I was thinkin’ 200 at least,” Mouse says. “Good thing we’re weird and don’t do Valentine’s Day.”

“February 14, 1929–“ Kate starts, like it’s a Manchurian Candidate trigger word, but Mouse puts his hand over her mouth.

I look up slowly, seeing Kelley, red faced from laughing, Mouse with his hand over his wife's mouth, and Kate looking put out at being interrupted. 

"So, it's a deal?" I ask with a thin smile.

“Oh, hell yes,” Mouse says, removing his hand and wiping it on Kate’s sleeve. She looks pleased with herself. 

“So, 200 wins,” she says, holding out her hand. Mouse shakes it. “The die is cast.”

I chuckle. 

Yeah. This? This I can work with.


	22. I'll convince you soon that I am fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the anniversary of something unknown, Mouse checks on Crockett and Kelley, only to realize the friendship he has in her. Kate visits Father Mullen to have a discussion about what she's done, and after finding absolution, she breathes a sigh of relief.

_Just hold me close to you_

**February 8, 2020  
** **1443 Hours  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
** **Kelley **

He's asleep. Again. Good, because he's been mopey the few hours he was up. I'm just worried about him. He's still recovering, and frankly, I hate the fact that I'm on high alert today. 

After last year, after that seemingly temporary meltdown he had in the middle of the night… I just don't want it to happen again. Because he doesn't deserve that. 

And I know I can call one of the others, but my heart suddenly hurts knowing who's missing. I don't focus on it. 

I brought him tea earlier, but I don't think he's touched it. He doesn't know, or if he does, he hasn't said anything, but I took his gun and knives and put them in my safe. I don't know why. I trust him, but I know desperation doesn't listen to reason. 

So I curl up on the couch, pulling the blanket over me as I listen to the sounds around me. I check my phone, sending Mouse a text.

_ When I was a kid, my mother told me I could be anyone I wanted to be. Turns out, identity theft is a crime. _

….. _ why are you like this? _ He sends back.  _ Usually you put these in our weirdo group text.  _

_ You can vet them first,  _ I reply. 

_ It was a decent dad level joke, although I wouldn’t know. _

_ Fucker.  _

I set my phone down again, sighing. 

_ What are you up to? I’m running errands. Want me to come over? _

_ I'm okay. Not a lot. Just around, 'Kett is down, probably for the rest of the day. _

_ What? Why? _

I sigh.  _ He's exhausted, mopey. I'm just on high alert.  _

_ I’m coming over. You can’t stop me.  _

_ You don't have to, Mouse. It's okay.  _

I just pull the blanket around me as I peek in Crockett's door. He's fast asleep, his face pinched. 

_ Haha, cute. Something’s wrong with you. I’m coming over.  _

_ I'm just sad.  _

I go back to the couch, snuggling down with the blanket. I don't want to admit it, but I'm glad Mouse is on the way.

_ We know what happens when you get sad. Open the door soon. _

I grumble, but I get up again to unlock the door. I just hang out there for a bit, leaning on the wall. I feel crappy. But I know it's the worry and the anxiety about Crockett. 

It doesn’t take him long to appear. Well, a little longer than I expect, sure, but he’s holding a cup carrier when he steps in.

“Had to make a pit stop. Hi!” He says, dropping his voice low. “Oops. Sorry. Kinda loud. Hi!” 

"Hey," I murmur. "Thanks."

“Coffee,” He says, holding up the cup. “Didn’t really know your order. You should probably, you know, tell me. For next time.”

"Two cream, five sugar," I say absentmindedly. 

He just beams. “I went with two cream, three sugars, and grabbed more. Look at  _ that _ . We’re learning. We don’t hang out enough, just me and you.”

He looks around the drawers, finds a spoon, and adds more sugar to what I expect is my cup. After he’s done stirring, he hands it to me.

"Thank you," I say softly, gently bumping my shoulder to his.

“So. What’s up.”

He just slurps some of his coffee. 

"Just worried like hell, Mouse." I go to check again, and Crockett's still asleep, so I head for the couch again.

“Why are you worried? What happened last year?”

The question comes out flatly. 

I sigh. "He spiraled pretty bad last year. Bad, Mouse."

“Spiraled? Spiraled how? Like, last month drunk fest or…. or June 2019, spiral?”

He’s so blase about it, like we’re just having a conversation.

I look up at him, shifting closer. "June type spiral, but not quite as bad."

“Oooof. Okay. Uh, what made him stop?”

"Otis and I," I say flatly.

“Otis?” He says softly. “Aww, hell. I miss that cat. Sorry. Sorry, damn.”

"It's okay. I miss him too." 

He just sits, drinking more of his coffee. 

“This just ain’t a ‘last year’ thing, is it? This is somethin’ deep that we don’t know.”

"Exactly. He was a royal mess last year the day of," I murmur. "He was… it was bad. But he wouldn't tell me what. He gets iffy around a week into January, too. Potentially helped by the bender." 

“Anything we can do?” He offers. “I mean, we get the same way. Kate and me. Usually around the start of March. It’ll be kickin’ in soon,” he sighs. 

"I don't know what to tell you, honestly," I say. "He's just so damn sad, and he's in so much fuckin' pain, but he still refuses to say anything."

“Well,” he sighs again. “Is there anything we can do to help  _ you?  _ You’re the one who sees the most of it.”

"I just want him okay, and I want to help him be okay, and I just… I'm tired, I'm anxious, and I could use a hug," I say in a small voice. 

“Oh! Oh. Yeah. Not sure I’m too good at hugs but I can manage that. C’mere.”

He inches closer to me, pulling me in tight. I just melt into him, burying my face in his chest. 

“Oh, hey?” He says softly. “Hi. Hello. Maybe I’m a better hugger than I thought. And here I just thought you liked me because I was married to Kate.”

"Nah," I murmur. "You and Kate… I'm friends with Kate, but also with you. You're… you're sorta my people."

“I like having people,” he says in a small, small voice. 

"I got you, boo," I whisper. I cuddle into him. "Besides. You've had me since June."

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I know. Forged in fire, or whatever,” he chuckles. 

I don't speak for a long time, I just hug him. He doesn’t let go. I don’t think he will. I certainly don't plan to.

“You know, no matter what, we’re gonna be here, right? I mean, I think what Kate did kinda solidified that, but just so you know.”

"I know. Is… Is she doing okay?" 

“As good as she can be. Asked to go to church early tomorrow. Probably for confession. You know how it is. She’ll feel better afterwards.”

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." I lay my head on his shoulder. 

“You want me to stick around a little while?”

"Please?"

“Hell yeah. Whatever you need. I like this,” he says almost suddenly. “We should do more of this. Just you and me.”

"I want that. Yes, please. We need to hang out more."

“Good. Glad we had this talk. Drink your coffee. We’ll sort out Crockett, but we gotta sort us out first, and that comes from coffee.”

I give him a little salute. "You bet, Greggy-boy."

“Better than Hamster-man.”

"You bet, Hamster-Man."

“I will take you down like you’re the little sister I never had.”

"That's the plan." 

He just pulls me even closer, and I feel him sigh. “I regret nothing.”

"Good. Neither do I."

* * *

_I will not bend, I will not break_

**February 9, 2020  
** **0913 Hours** **   
** **Saint Gabriel’s Catholic Church, Canaryville  
** **Kate**

I know we’re early. We’re always early, and there aren’t a lot of people here. I sit in our pew. Our pew, now. Not just mine. Ours. 

Even still, the church doesn’t give me any help. It still bothers me. It still weighs heavy on my mind. 

But Greg just sits quietly. He knows better than to get into it with me right now. And I know everything’s fine between all of us, but it doesn’t mean it’s fine with me.

“Kaitlyn?”

I look over my shoulder and I see Father Mullen.

“Hey, Father.”

“Good morning, Greg,” he says quietly. “Kaitlyn, you look like you could use a chat.”

“I probably could,” I say, drawing a sharp breath. I look up to the gold cross on the ceiling. “It’s not gonna be a fun one, Father Mullen.”

“You’ve come to me on a lot of ‘fun ones’, Kaitlyn.”

I’m on my feet before I even think about it. Greg’s hand rests in mine. He knows what I have to do. It is what it is. 

He’s a priest, and the case is closed. The case is over. 

I gotta make this right.

I have to. 

I’ve made it right with everyone else.

I follow Father Mullen to the confessional, and I slip inside.

It takes me a few minutes to start. I actually quite like the silence. 

I cross myself. “Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession.”

“You know you don’t have to use that formal of language with me.”

“It’s comforting.”

“That’s fine,” he says. “You can continue.”

I sigh. The words are out before I even think about it. 

“Father, do you believe that God forgives those who do the wrong things for the right reasons?”

“I believe it depends on those reasons.”

I start picking at the wood of the confessional door. They’ve filled it in over the years. I keep picking at it like I used to when I was a kid. 

Some things never change. Other things do. 

“Father Mullen, I…”

“Take your time.”

“I’m trying,” I say, frustrated. “I… I should give you context. I need to give you context. I should give you context. I… my friend, he… he got abducted. By some bad dudes. They were, uh, they needed a doctor, and he… they grabbed him. To fix a guy. I don’t even… I don’t even remember. I, uh. I have a friend. Works for the Chicago Police department. He called me in to—to help. He needed someone who knew the area, and he trusted me. That’s fine. I was going to help them track him down. And then… and then my cop friend let me come in with him. To the warehouse where they were keeping Crockett. My… my friend. He’s more like family. More like my brother at this point. I’m getting off track.”

He chuckles. “Some things haven’t changed.”

“Okay. Okay, so. Uh, my cop friend. He… he let me breach the warehouse with him. He… he gave me his gun.” I draw a breath. “I shot the guy who took my friend. He died on the floor.”

“Kaitlyn,” he says, sighing. “This troubles you.”

“Of course, it troubles me! Of course, it does! I shouldn’t have to deal with this in the fu—” I take a heavy breath. “In this city. In Chicago. That’s not what is supposed to happen. But he was a kidnapper. I… I honestly don’t know what he did to get his partner hurt. But they… they were bad men, Father Mullen.”

I get quiet. I can’t help it. I know I need to keep going but I just…

“You have more.”

“I tracked down the last partner. I tried to kill him too. I beat him within an inch of his life, Father Mullen, and I just… I lost it. I nearly killed him with my own hands.”

He’s quiet. He’s silent. I can’t handle it anymore.

“Can you please say something?”

“I knew you had more to add,” he says simply. “Tell me the whole story.”

“Crockett got shot,” I draw in a tight breath. “I… I held him together with my own hands. And then I lied about it all. We covered it up. My involvement. My… everything.”

We both just sit. We’re trying to process, I think. We’re both trying to process it. 

“I’m sorry for these and all the sins of my past life.”

“Kaitlyn,” he begins, and I’m waiting for it. I’m waiting for the judgment. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I believe you have already assigned yourself the penance you needed in order to have your sins forgiven.”

“W-what?”

“You’ve suffered enough. You’ve rattled this around in your brain for long enough. Kaitlyn, I’ve known you for nearly 34 years. You’ve given yourself penance already.”

I draw a heavy breath. It comes back out a little rattled. 

“You’re probably not wrong,” I chuckle. “I… I killed a man, Father Mullen.”

“John 15, verses 12 and 13.”

“Pop quiz?” I sigh.

“‘This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’”

“Oh. Yeah. I know that verse.”

“I imagine you would,” he says. “You tend to live by that verse. That, and Proverbs 3:27.”

“Father, c’mon—”

“Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of your hand to do it.”

I lean my head back against the wood.

“Can I just… one. One thing.”

“Do what you must.”

I close my eyes against the wood. “Oh, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen.”

I hear Father Mullen once more. 

“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace. And I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

I let out one more heavy sigh. It feels like a bunch of weight comes off my shoulders. 

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes,” I say, wiping the tears I didn’t know I was crying off my face.

“Kaitlyn, sometimes… I may not always share the beliefs as some of my peers, but I know you. And I know you are a kind, brave, loyal woman. And you would never do anything that you don’t think is right and good and just.”

“I wasn’t gonna let them take Crockett,” I say, wiping the rest of the tears from my eyes. 

“I know you weren’t. You have a strong sense of duty and loyalty. Never ever lose that.”

“Thank… thank you,” I say. “Thanks. I… I needed to hear that.”

“I’m not here to tell you what you need to hear,” he says, “But the truth.”

“You don’t think I’m damned to Hell for killing a man?”

“I think you’ve done enough penance,” he repeats.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Do you think it was wrong?”

“No. I was saving my friend.”

“I think you know my answer.”

“Father, you sure your contemporaries would agree with you?”

He chuckles. “Unlikely.”

“Thank you.”

“Always, Kaitlyn. Always.”

I get out of the confessional much lighter than when I went in.


	23. Keep Our Heads Above Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the gala is upon them, and of course, they all know it's going to be a long night. Especially with Crockett in his flirty mood, terrorizing the Gerwitzes. Still, the past weighs heavy on their minds, and Kelley decides to sic the Gerwitzes on Marcel protection detail.

_I'll meet you there_**  
February 15, 2020** **  
** **1612 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Mouse**

“Kate, you look _ fine _,” I say, groaning. Lord, this tie. I cannot figure out this damn tie. “Crockett, how do I do this damn thing?”

He turns my way. 

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah," he beckons me closer. He fiddles with it, and his tongue is almost sticking out in concentration. 

"There," he smiles at me brightly. "Step back," he commands. "Mouse, can I just objectify you for a minute?"

“Oh, yeah, dude, always,” I say, giving him my best model pose.

He nods, looking at me as he leans against the wall. "Can you just… spin for me?"

I nearly trip over my feet, snickering. I hear Kate’s voice-- “The hell you up to out there?”

Crockett lets out a low whistle. 

"Just admirin' your husband, Katie Kat. Fine man."

I point at him, adjusting my tie absentmindedly. “Don’t do this. You can’t do this. Not right now. Gonna be worked up all night.”

“Who’s gonna be worked up?” Kate says, poking her head out of the bathroom. I try to sneak a peek, but she lets out a ‘fuck that’ before shutting the door again.

Crockett chuckles before beckoning me closer again with a finger. I pause. But the tux. God, this man makes me question my sexuality. Not my relationship, mind. Nah. It’s always Kate. But I do think she suggested a threesome at New Years? Don’t think I would turn it down. I mean, probably wouldn’t suggest it myself, but I wouldn’t say no. Damn, that tux. 

"C'mere, Greg," he says, a little impatient, one hand on his hip.

I let out a noise I would get made fun of if Kate heard it, and then I follow his instructions. 

He reaches forward gently, straightening my collar and tie, then smiles brilliantly as he straightens the jacket, looking up at me from under his lashes.

"There," he hums. "How's that?"

He leans back, gazing at me.

“Fuck you. Fuck you big time, dude.” I flail a little. “Stop using your powers against me. Kate! _ Kate _! Help!”

“I’m busy, what’s going on?”

“Crockett’s undressing me with his eyes again!”

There’s a thump from the bedroom, and then an ‘ow’. “Wait! Don’t do anything until I’m out there! I wanna watch!”

He sighs. 

"This is stupidity at its height," he hums, leaning backwards into the counter. "I'm not doin' anythin', Kate, calm the hell down!"

Kate wanders out of the bedroom, still slipping one of her shoes on as she holds onto the wall. Holy shit. Holy. Oof. Still not used to that. She’s in that damn blue dress. The one from the military ball. I’m hit with _ the Book of Love _ again. 

She adjusts the strap on her shoe and finally stands up, fluffing her hair a little. It’s curly. It’s getting long. I have to admit, I like it longer. It was like when we met. 

I can’t even speak. 

Crockett whistles. "Damn, KitKat… Now that's a hell of a dress, darlin'."

She does a spin. The hem flutters up a bit. “And ‘Kett, Mouse was right. Damn. You clean up nice. You sure you don’t wanna… you know,” she says, smirking, winking at me. Her long, head to toe gaze is not lost. I just slip my hands in my pockets and grin at the floor. 

He clears his throat, fiddling with his own bow tie. "Listen, I'm regrettably still a little too fragile, hit me up in a month."

He sweeps his eyes up to hers, and gives her a wink.

She eyes her phone. I can only assume she’s looking at her calendar app. “Hey, what color lipstick?” She says, holding up two in her hand. One is more of a neutral, probably what she would call mauve, and the other is a deeper maroon. I look to Crockett, shrugging. 

He squints, then settles back. 

"Bring them closer."

She sets her phone on the counter, and then hands them to Crockett. God, look at her. Kelley must have done her makeup or something. I don’t think Kate has the emotional capability or patience to do this on herself. Damn. _ Damn. _

Crockett is humming to himself as he considers the choices. He looks up to Kate, then seems to make up his mind.

He sets one down, and holds up the maroon, pulling her closer. "Pucker," he says absently, reaching forward with the tube.

“Can’t watch this. Can’t do it. Kelley, can I help with _ anything _? Please. Get me out of this situation.”

"Mouse! Need a hand in about four minutes!" She calls back. 

Crockett nods. "There you go," he smiles at Kate, pressing a paper towel to her mouth. 

He steps back, away, and he's fiddling with his tie. Kate smacks his hands away gently. 

“Stop. We got you. Just make the appropriate intros, and Mouse and I’ve got it, okay?” She fiddles with her own sleeve. I know she’s self conscious, but I don’t dare say anything. Especially with her scar so prominent. 

"Mouse, you're tall, I need someone tall right now!" Kelley calls from the other end of the apartment. "Kate I need a color opinion!"

Crockett glances at the scars, I can see the moment he does. He says nothing.

She just absentmindedly brushes her hand over her shoulder, scratching the scar, moving her hair. “Comin’, Kelley!” She calls, then gestures towards the bedroom. “The wife,” she whispers, heading back in.

"Mouse!" Kelley whines again, and Crockett sniffs a laugh as he sits down to do something with his shoes. 

"Go see what she wants," he says. "Or she'll sulk all night."

I follow Kate into the bedroom, and when I look at Kelley, I let out a low breath.

“Fuck, Kelley. Jesus.”

She turns around from where she was standing at the mirror and smiles shyly.

"Is it okay?" 

“Shit, Kelley! Of course it is! You look… you…” I drift. The deep maroonish purple lace, the sleeves, the A line skirt…. damn. “You. You did good,” I finally manage. Actually, she’s getting a little fuzzy. I try to focus but there might be a tear in my eye. 

"Mouse?" She launches herself into me, head leaning on my chest as her arms go around me. 

“You look beautiful,” I whisper into her. Kate just smiles. She smiles, and I know for the first time in a while she’s actually happy. 

"You look beautiful," Kelley replies, then steps back. "Okay. I have gathered you both here today. Blah blah blah. What was I going to say?"

“Color opinion,” Kate says, fiddling with her necklace in the mirror. 

"Yes. No," she says, pointing at Kate. "That was so he wouldn't wonder. It's 'Kett. He's kind of freaking out. He hates these things, and I don't know how much I can stick to his side." She's fumbling with her bracelet. "Could…" she sighs. 

“We got him,” I say. “Totally.”

“Unequivocally.” Kate touches her lipstick up in the mirror. 

She nods, and suddenly she looks relieved. "Thanks. I just, I know he's still a bit nervous about noise, and crowds, and I'm sort of scared he'll push himself too far, especially since he only got back to work yesterday-"

“Hey. Hey? It’s fine,” I say, grasping her arms. “We got this. Besides. We’ve got a bet and we honor them, so it’s going to be battle, right, Kate?”

“I’m gonna take you like the little bitch you are,” she says, sweetly in the mirror. 

Kelley snorts. "Okay. I feel mildly better."

There's a crash from the front room, and Kelley bolts. I’m not far behind.

Crockett is perched on the kitchen island, grinning sheepishly, legs crossed as if he owns the place. There's the contents of Kelley's purse on the floor, the bar stool tipped over beside it. 

"Hey," he waves awkwardly. 

“Are you impatient or what?” I ask, and then I realize. “Y’all have been around each other too long.”

He shrugs. "I'm bored. I want to leave," he announces, trying to inch forward enough to get down without causing injury. "I am impatient. I need to get going. Let's move," he rambles, and Kelley just rolls her eyes at me.

“I’m ready to rumble,” Kate says, grabbing her clutch. She looks at it, and then me, and then dumps it onto the counter. I take her wallet, her phone, and her lipstick and put it in my pockets. She just gives me a grin. 

Kelley pops up from the floor where she's gathered the contents of her purse, then sighs, moving to where Marcel is grinning at her on the kitchen island. "You're a cat, Crockett," she says. "You go places and then you can't get yourself down. I'm the literal firefighter here. You know I can't lift you off that. I can, but I'm wearing a dress, CJ. A real dress, if you haven't noticed." She rolls her eyes. "Maybe I should just leave you there," she teases.

“Don’t give him the option, “I say. “He’ll take that as an invitation to not go.” 

“Besides, we need an impartial judge on this bet,” Kate says. “I don’t trust Kelley.”

She pouts. "Number one, I'm hurt, Madam Gerwitz. Number two," she points at Crockett. "I'm not getting you down. That's the third time since last night."

“You just know she’s gonna side with me,” I say, stepping towards Crockett. I gesture for his hands. “Face it. She loves me more.”

He reaches out his hands, but there's a sly look in his eye. "Yes, my dear, I think she does."

“Wait a second, you’re fuckin’ biased too!” I realize, retracting from helping him down. “You’re all in cahoots! We need another unbiased observer. An actual one.”

He pouts. "How the hell am I supposed to get down now?" 

He lays dramatically across the kitchen island, and he catches my hand just enough to yank me closer. 

"Gregory," he purrs. "Would you mind terribly helpin' a guy out? I seem to be stuck up here."

“Oh, he knows my weakness now, and I am lost,” I mutter. Kate just giggles as I go back to Crockett and wrap my arm around him to help him off the counter. 

"Thanks, laddie," he winks at me, reaching down to straighten my tie one more time. "Seems to me I know your weakness, and like hell if I'll forget it."

“I can’t even threaten you, because I fear your power,” I mutter. “Should we like, go? I mean? This is kind of your deal?”

“There better be champagne,” Kate says, heading for her coat and then the door.

Crockett snorts as Kelley passes him his coat and he tries to help her get her own on. 

"There will be a hell of a lot of champagne, Kate, don't you fret about that," he mutters. "Yes. Please. Let's go before I explode."

* * *

_The Calm Before the Storm_**  
February 15, 2020** **  
** **1722 Hours** **  
** ** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center**  
** **Kelley**

I smile, and for kicks I throw in a mock-curtsy to Ms. Goodwin. "Good to see you tonight, Ms. Goodwin!" 

"Hi, Kelley, I'm glad you made it," she says, and I haven't seen one of her smiles that genuine in a while. "Daniel ran off somewhere." 

I can see Dr. Charles from the corner of my eye, and I turn to him. "Hey," I say, leaning in to hug him. He’s almost surprised, but he hugs me back after a beat. 

“Kelley! Look at you! You look gorgeous! That color suits you.”

I hum happily. "Thanks, crazy uncle," I whisper. "Do I have to hobnob with the elites? Will I be grounded if I don't?"

“Yeah, we better,” he whispers. “Gotta get the most out of these outfits. Sharon!” He says louder, still not letting me go. “How are you handling?”

She rolls her eyes but shrugs. "I have a speech, then the president, then you, Daniel. Kelley, you're up onstage with him too?" 

"Yes, ma'am," I smile, saluting her. I think my family's rubbing off on me. 

"Good. Daniel, Kelley, should we get ready?"

Almost absentmindedly, Dr. Charles brushes my hair over my shoulder, adjusting it. As if he could do anything absentmindedly. “Yeah, let’s get this over with.”

I kiss his cheek and nod. "Sooner the better."


	24. Whispering a Prayer in the Fury of A Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to help Crockett, the Gerwitzes try to run the night. With Crockett's state of mind on the forefront of their worries, Kate and Mouse start to do the job they set out to do: beat each other in their mysterious bet while simultaneously making sure he's surviving. And there's a delicate balance.

**Mouse**

I’m not used to this kind of positive attention, but the entire table shifts to laughter. And not at my expense! This is great, and Ethan is laughing the hardest. 

“But you know, there’s one thing we can agree on,” I say, gesturing with my glass towards Ethan. 

“FTAF,” we say in unison. Kate does too, and honestly? Feels kind of good. 

Kelley just watches, but she's jumping between the conversations of Maggie and Ben and April and Crockett. Her hand is resting gently on Crockett's arm as he glances around.

I reach over and touch Kate’s hand. She looks down at the table surreptitiously, so I draw a little circle on the table, then barely point at Crockett. She covers my hand in hers, giving me the “OK” gesture. 

“So, does anyone else have an insane goal like M—Greg and I’s tonight?” She says, chuckling over her own statement. She launches into an explanation of what we had shook on the other night when I lean behind Kelley’s back and gesture towards Crockett. “You good?” I whisper.

He jolts a bit, shooting me a half-smile before zoning out again, staring in the direction of the door.

“Wanna take a breather?”

He nods slowly, tapping Kelley's hand with a smile and a look, and then he's up, out of his chair and backing away from the table.

“Thank you for your wonderful company,” I say. Who the fuck am I? I straighten my jacket. “Dr. Marcel and I are going to head out to ready the mingling area.”

I wink at Kelley before we start out of the crowded banquet room. 

Crockett takes a breath, and sighs. 

It's quieter now.

“How you doin’?” I ask quietly. “I… I uh, yeah. The noise in there, right?”

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Bit too loud once it started building. Just needed… needed space. Air."

He rubs a hand over his face, looking around quietly. "Mouse, the noise… do you think it ever stops?"

“Never really stops,” I murmur. “But it does…. it gets…. quieter. Gotta surround yourself with the right people.” I say, smirking at him. 

He nods. 

"Hate things like these," he mutters. "Hate crowds that I have to solicit. Especially… especially now."

He shakes his head, as if to clear it. "I'm glad you're here, Mouse," he says softly. "Glad you're here."

“You’re a man of action,” I say, straightening a little. It’s a symptom of the uniform. “In another life, could’ve been a military man. Would’ve looked better in the uniform than me, that’s for sure.”

He does chuckle a bit. "I thought about it, honestly," he admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Almost did."

“What made you turn around?” I ask quietly. 

"Tulane Med was my first choice, and then… I still stood outside that recruiting office for half an hour. Turned around and went home. Streets of New Orleans and my family was enough of a battleground for me." He's leaning against the wall, and I can almost see the memories in his eyes. I’ve been there before. 

“Mom bounced when I was a kid. Haven’t seen her since. Never wanted to search. Dad died when I was a teenager, was raised by my grandmother. Left Poland at twelve in 1939. Badass of a woman,” I say, chuckling. “Wasn’t a good student in school. Barely got into UIC, and all the shit they call attention disorders now…” I wave my hand around my head. “Could hack a lot of shit, but I couldn’t hack college. Only one more thing I could do, so I went as hard as I could and joined the Rangers.”

He nods, looking up at me. "Your grandmother, I like her. Sweet. No nonsense. Kazimiera, right?"

“Did she talk to you at the wedding? Of course she did. Did she call you ‘ _ wysoki, ciemny i przystojny’?” _

He tilts his head. 

"What does it mean?" He asks me warily.

“‘Tall, dark, and handsome,’” I sigh. “She watches too many damn soap operas. Reads too many Nora Roberts books. She would eat you right up.”

He smiles fondly. "She's sweet. She's very sweet. She said many things while we danced. Well, we stood there swaying. I enjoyed talking to her," he whispers.

“She’s a saint. At any rate, she’s why I joined up. Told me straight up to get off my ass and do something. Hell, she left Poland when she was  _ twelve. _ I was nineteen. The reason I’m tellin’ you this… I never knew if it was a good decision, but I knew it was the right one. My point is, bad shit happens. Bad shit happens, but good can come out of it, you… you know?” I find myself dusting off the service ribbons on my uniform. “What I’m sayin’ is, if I hadn’t had gotten hurt the first time, I would have never ended up home, and I would have never… never met Kate. And-- and! Had I never joined up the second time, and… and gotten… gotten hurt, I wouldn’t have... I wouldn’t have…” I’m spinning my wedding band. 

He reaches forward and lays his hand on my wrist, gently. "For what it's worth, Mouse, I'm glad to know you. I'm not glad all the shit happened, but I'm thankful that good came out of it." 

“It’ll happen for you, too, “I say. “Something as big as… as last month, or like tonight. You never know what could come of it, okay? Just be… be optimistic. That’s what I’m saying. Even when it doesn’t feel like you should be. Things will turn up.”

He nods. "Yeah… yeah."

I clap my hand on his shoulder, then decide differently and pull him into a hug. 

“Got you,” I mutter. 

He hugs back, taking a moment to breathe. "You're a good man, Greg Gerwitz. A good man."

Kate busts out of the doors, taking a deep breath, and peering over the room. Holding the doors open, she starts to smile. 

“Let the games begin.”

“That’s my wife,” I mutter.

Crockett gives me an almost smile, but there's a glint in his eye. "My condolences," he says solemnly.

She crosses over the dance floor to us, spinning around, watching her skirt fly out. “Y’all ready to party?!”

Crockett reaches out a hand to her, bowing as low as he can. "Of course, ma belle," he says loudly. She tries to curtsy, but she’s shaky when she lowers herself and nearly flat tires. 

He laughs, throwing his head back as he tries to catch her, then thinking better of it. 

“We gotta get this music goin’!” She says, clapping her hands and checking to see the doors. People start to file in. 

Sharon Goodwin slips in, speaking to the string quartet, and within seconds, I can hear them. And as soon as it starts, she spies Kelley, and beckons her over. Immediately, Kate is gesturing to rally point. 

“Okay. Game plan. Crockett, tell me who we’re workin’ with. Who’s the big ones. What’s the take for each. Who needs to go to who. That’s how we’re gonna run this. You’re point man. Stay here, make intros, and we’ll take the rest. Assign names. We got this, baby.”

He scans the room, and it's like he's shifted into doctor mode. His eyes are sharp, and his face determined. 

"The couple nearest Goodwin. They're the sponsors. They're an older couple, they're likely to shell out. Elaine and Ricardo Bagnasco." He studies us. "Kate, you'd make a good impression. They're sweet but lively. Their oldest and youngest sons are Air Force and Army respectively." 

Kate blows me a kiss, does a 180, grabs a glass of champagne and sashays towards the couple. 

He scans again. "Mouse, there's a single older lady near Dr. Charles. She's…" he squints. "Mrs. Marilyn Braxton-Farley, she's a widow in her eighties. She also has a grandson in service… in Iraq, I think. She's very sweet, and her daughter I think lives in St. Paul. Do what you can. Even just a social recommendation or endorsement would help. Just drop my name, she'll know."

He pauses. "Mouse, wait," he says, a little urgently, and almost excited. He's gripped my arm. I take a half step towards him. “What can I do?”

He's squinting. "There's an elderly couple, gray hair, near the door, tanned, Mouse, she's in green and he's in a tux, I can't see his face," he's almost bouncing, and there's raw hope in his eyes, a wistful smile. "I can't tell, does he have glasses?" 

“Uh, yeah! Yeah,” I say, looking through the crowd. “That’s an affirmative, Major,” I slip, giving him a wink.

He blushes before almost bolting. "Mouse, come with me. Mrs. Braxton-Farley is with Dr. Charles anyway, I'm going to borrow you for a moment, come on!" 

“If we’re gonna make out in a closet, I at least have to tell Kate first,” I say.

He shakes his head, leaning to keep his eyes on the couple. "Later," he jokes absently. "I need you to meet someone."

“Uh, just ‘someone’? Bein’ a little cryptic, Marcel.”

He practically pulls me across the floor towards the door. "Only two of the most influential people I know from New Orleans, Mouse, and they're  _ here _ !" He's so desperately excited, almost like a little kid.

“Well, hold up, hold up, you gotta give me more to work on than  _ that, _ ” I say, brushing some non-existent dirt from my sleeve. “Who do I gotta be? Stoic soldier, dutiful partner, wingman, c’mon, Crockett!”

He pauses to look at me, and his eyes are shining. "Just be yourself. Please. My brother. You."

“Can do, let’s go.”

He pauses a little ways from them, and takes a deep breath. 

"Hazel? Kent?" He says softly, and they turn. 

The gentleman- Kent - stares at him, a slow smile. Hazel steps forward. "Crockett? Honey, is that you?" He nods, and there's tears in his eyes. 

He steps forward, and he wraps his arms around her, almost towering over her. 

"'Kett, baby, it's you, you're here, baby, it's you!" 

"It's me, Hazel, it's me," he whispers, his chin in her graying hair.

After a moment, Crockett steps back, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Kent, it's so good you're here," he says, reaching forward and hugging him. "I'm so glad you're here." 

The two are silent for a moment. 

Crockett nods as he turns to me. 

"Mouse- Greg - this is… wow," he says, almost choking up. "Hazel and Kent Kenley, they… he was my mentor throughout school, and Hazel, well." He gazes at her with a smile. "She was almost my second mother. She is, in a way. I'd never have gotten through the shit I have if I didn't have these two." 

He nods. "Hazel, Kent, may I formally introduce Specialist First Class Gregory Gerwitz, retired." He looks to me with a warm smile. "My brother."

I can’t help but smile at Crockett before reaching out to shake hands. “Great to meet you both. Truly.”

Hazel looks me over from head to toe, and then steps forward and hugs me warmly.

"You special man," she whispers. "Crockett doesn't call anyone brother lightly."

“Neither do I, ma’am, neither do I,” I say, returning the hug. Lord, she’s tiny. 

She grips me tightly before stepping back, and Kent takes her place. "You're tall," he says, a twinkle in his eyes.

I try to come up with something smart to say, but I can’t. I just bust out laughing. “I’m sorry, the uniform might tell a different story, but this whole formality thing is lost on me. At least call me Greg.”

Crockett groans from where he's back to hugging Hazel. Lord, but she almost disappears in his arms. "Kent, don't say it!" He laughs.

Kent nods once, sharply. "Crockett used to take his men a little smaller when he was younger," he says with a wink.

“It’s the uniform,” I whisper. “Irresistible.”

Crockett giggles, and Hazel beams as she reaches a hand up to his cheek. 

"So what if the uniform is a weakness, Kent, we knew that nineteen years ago," she hums, and Crockett is  _ blushing. _

"Hazel, stop it," he whispers, and she shakes her head. 

"I'm married, and a foot toein' the grave, baby, but believe me, I'd dance with him good," she tells him firmly, pointing at me. Kent just nods empathetically. 

"She would."

I listen to the music, make a good show of it, then offer her my hand. “May I have this dance?”

She giggles and with a final peck on Crockett's cheek, she takes my hand. 

"Of course, baby, I'd be glad to. Anything for Crockett's brother."

* * *

After the darling Hazel finally relinquishes me and my “strong arms” for the night, I finally head back to Crockett, who’s given himself a reprieve. Crockett's leaning on a table, and he's fiddling with his cuffs. He looks up as I approach, and he shoots me a smile.

“Man, that Hazel? Bit handsy,” I say, looking at his drink. “Hey, where’d you get the water? I need liquid and I cannot drink tonight.”

He jerks his thumb at the bar. "Just told them I was goin' dry tonight, and they didn't question it."

“Nice, you want anything?” I ask. He’s looking more and more nervous as the night goes on, but I know at least right now, it’s better to hold down the fort. Not until it’s over. 

He shakes his head, taking another drink. "I'm good." 

“Two seconds,” I say, heading over to the bar. They don’t ask questions when I just get water, so that’s good. Probably the uniform. When I come back to the table, I make sure I’m directly in Crockett’s eyeline. He doesn’t need anyone creeping up on him today. 

“So, what’s on your mind, Major?”

He hums, and he's put up the mask again. 

"Who else could you try?" he says under his breath, avoiding my eyes.

“Hold up. You ain’t right. Can’t be leadin’ a battlefield with blinders. What’s up?”

He shoots me a half-glare. "I just hate these nights. If I didn't have to be here, I'd be at home watching old Saints games and yelling at Brees, or - or something. Not here. Not here. The only reason I'm here is because I have you and Kate. That's it."

I pat his hand. “Hey. I know. These things, they suck when your job depends on ‘em. But remember. Kate and I? We’re only alive because of people like you. And you. You do more than you think.”

He nods, but part of him I think is a long way away. He shoots me a smile, and falls back into silence, looking back to his glass.

I want to help him right now, but I know it’s not going to get better until we’re out of the woods, so we have to push forward.

“Alright, I’m slackin’ on this bet, I’m sure Kate has had a helluva head start,” I say.

He winks at me. "Yeah… yeah she does, come to think of it," he teases. "But hey, you won Hazel's heart, and impressed Kent into a hefty donation, so that counts in your favor."

I lean onto the table. “How bad is it.”

He laughs a bit. "50 from Kent, and a kiss from her. You really impressed them," he says, genuinely smiling. "Although... sorry about Kent. He's a character." He ducks his head, side-eyeing me.

“Wait, why?” I ask. I’m hoping that’s sarcasm. Still can’t quite get that right.

He shrugs, a flush creeping up. "I was a bit of a… well. I had a wild period, and Kent and Hazel, they were there for a lot of it. Kent can't help but tease sometimes, and… well, you reminded him a bit, I think." He's fighting back a smile.

“We need to sit down and unpack like, all o’that, okay? But I need to beat my wife, so gimme another donor to hit up.”

He watches the room before pointing out a fairly young man. "Him. Jackson Ronaldo. Attorney, shit ton of money and nowhere to put it. He's been in for two car accidents, I think he'd be glad to give back."

“Oh, I’ve got ‘em,” I say, giving him a wink. 

* * *

Fifteen minutes, and the guy is half ready to pull out his checkbook for me. I take the news to the still antsy Crockett. Shit, I almost make him jump on my approach, but he recovers. Or, at least, he seems like he does. Push through, buddy. Take it to the other side. 

“Has Kate reported back?” I ask, almost out of breath. “You gotta tell me how much she’s got.”

He consults the post-it in his pocket. "Kate… hmm. 115." He smiles at me. "Doin' good, Specialist."

“Hot damn!” I say a little too loud. Eh, that’s standard at this point. “My boy Jackson just committed to 75. That puts me at…. At 125, right?”

He nods, scratching out the old number and adding the new one. "Excellent. Perfect. Good "

“I could still win this, couldn’t I?” I say, giddy. 

He beams at me, and gives that one-shoulder shrug. "Maybe you could, darlin', maybe you could."

“Stop flirting with me, I’m a married man,” I say in a gasping breath, “Okay. Hit me with the next one. C’mon. I cannot lose this bet.”

He laughs, and it's loud, and more genuine than before. 

"Her." He points at Kate as he approaches. "You two, I want you to collaborate and act like a married couple for once instead of… of this." He waves between the two of us. She walks up with the most pleasant smile on her face, and when she looks at me, she squints. 

“Go to hell, you rat bastard.”

“Already been there, turd burglar.”

"Stop that right now, kids! I'll ground you both, so help me God," Crockett says sharply.

“Can we be grounded together?” Kate suggests. “That way, we could have angry sex.”

“I agree,” I say, nodding.

He points at each of us in turn. "No. No. You're grounded separately, so those are your options. Grounded in solitary, or act like the married couple you are for twenty minutes."

Kate shuts her mouth tight. I realize I settle into parade rest. 

“Yes, Major,” I say under my breath.

“Major?” Kate asks, breaking. “When did he outrank me?”

“Babe. Babe, I love you, but he’s always outranked you. Besides. Major Marcel?”

“Captain Cavanagh?” She offers. 

“Yes, babe, you’ve got the alliteration too.”

“Thank you for the acknowledgement.”

“Thank you for acknowledging my acknowledgement.”

"Enough!" Crockett barks, looking at us sternly.

We both move to parade rest. Can’t help it. 

He hides a smile, then eyes us. "At ease, Gerwitzes."

We both glance at each other, and I lean onto the table. The phone in my pocket buzzes again, so Kate just reaches in and starts texting. “So. Crockett. My brother. My dear one. Who did you have in mind for us?”

He almost giggles. 

"That middle aged couple, they're both wearing red. The Johnsons. Malina and Joshua. Get them on board. Tell them that I'm calling in that check."

“Mrs. Gerwitz,” I say, giving Kate my arm. 

“Mr. Gerwitz,” she says, linking hers in mine. I’m pretty sure I hear Crockett groaning from the table. We slip through the couples dancing until we find the couple at their own table, both looking like they’re nearly done with their night, but brighten a little when we approach. 

He glances us over, and nods. "Can we help you two?" 

His wife seems to watch us over her glasses.

I hold my hand out for him to shake. “Mr. Johnson, I’m Specialist First Class Greg Gerwitz, and this is my wife, Captain Kate Gerwitz. Both retired. Good evening, Mrs. Johnson,” I say shaking her hand as well. Kate just nods to both of them before glancing at me wordlessly. I shrug imperceptibly. “Dr. Crockett Marcel sent us over to speak with you. I’m sure you’re completely aware of the purpose of this evening.”

Kate nearly glares at me. 

"Why didn't he come over himself?" Mrs. Johnson says curiously, and her bright eyes and energy make me think of a squirrel. 

“With all the excitement of the evening, we’re actually helping him coordinate his efforts,” Kate says. “Besides, Dr. Marcel thinks that people like you—potential donors—should hear from the champions of Gaffney, not just their employees.”

It’s my turn to glare at Kate. Maybe we  _ are _ good at this.

Mr. Johnson watches us. "Well. Gaffney's been a frontrunner for a good while," he agrees.

“If you’re looking for a good investment, I will tell you, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Gaffney,” Kate says. She draws a quick breath, a short one. “Greg wouldn’t be walking if it weren’t for the staff here. We owe… we owe everything to Gaffney.”

She looks to me like she’s just made a realization. 

"Oh Joshua," Mrs. Johnson says excitedly. "This is it, please, I can't think of a better place to give. Look at them," she says, turning gleaming eyes to us. 

Mr. Johnson nods. "Fair enough," he says.

“We would love to take whatever number you would like to share back to Dr. Marcel,” I say. “Knowing we can count on your contribution, it makes stories like ours have… have…”

“Have a happy ending,” Kate finishes, like we had rehearsed it. She clutches tightly to my arm. 

Mr. Johnson actually smiles. "Well…" 

"Oh, he's a sucker for a happy ending, aren't you Joshua?" Mrs. Johnson rambles. "He cried at the end of Anne of Green Gables."

"Malina," he hisses, but he smiles fondly at her before looking to us. "Alright. How does $130 thousand sound?"

Thank God for the Rangers. I keep a straight face, and Kate graciously touches Malina’s arm. “That would be fantastic. Thank you for listening to our story. Thank you for your caring contribution. We’ll take the good news back to Dr. Marcel.”

We share the typical handshakes, and as we finally get out of earshot, Kate shivers, shakes her head out a little. 

“What, you good?”

“The fuck was that,” she says, her voice dropping about three octaves. “Don’t let me do that ever again. That was gross. That was vile.” She starts groaning even more, and I guide her back to the table with Crockett. She’s still moaning and groaning when she gets back. 

Crockett raises his eyebrow at Kate as she has half a seizure. 

“I don’t know what happened back there, but it was weird,” I say. “She became a whole different person. Words came out of her mouth I didn’t know she knew. I think she’s allergic to formality.”

“Oh, 130,” she says. “Split two ways, that’s what, 65 each?” She turns to me. “That puts me at what, 180?”

“Sittin’ pretty at 190—”

"Dr. Marcel, if I may-" there's a hand on Crockett's shoulder and he's suddenly gasping, and his hands fly up. 

He almost hits the ground as he ducks forward, trying to step away. 

"No-" he gasps, eyes wide and glassy, hands shaking where they're raised. 

And just like we’re finishing each other’s sentences, Kate grasps the elbow of the little old lady and graciously pulls her away from the table while I pull Crockett bodily to his feet and nearly drag him out of the ballroom. Haste first, questions later. Gotta get him out of the battlefield. 

He's still staring off into nothing as his breath threatens to burst out of him. 

"No," he mutters. "I can't do anythin', his heart's stopped- don't touch me. He's dead. Let me do my damned job."

His hands are still raised, and he doesn't seem like he even knows it. 

But he keeps almost doubling over every time he takes a breath, and that interval is getting shorter as his breaths get faster.

I drag him into the hallway outside of the hall, blocking him from anyone else that might see. 

“Crockett. Crockett, my dude, hey, listen. We’re right here. You’re safe. You’re here. Stick with me. Crockett, can you hear me?”

"He lost too much blood, needed a transfusion… needed to get him to med… wouldn't let me… his heart stopped, don't point that at me," he says, tripping over his own words as the color drains from his face.

“Crockett, look at me.” I put my hand on his cheek. “Look at me. Hey. Listen. You’re not there. You’re here, I’m here. I got you.”

His hands slowly come down, and he doesn't know what to do with them. He slowly drags his eyes to me, and shakes his head. "His heart stopped- there's the damn gun-"

“I’m sorry, ‘Kett, but he’s dead. I’ve disarmed the asshole. You’re safe now. You’re safe with me. I’m gonna touch you, alright?” I grasp his shoulders, trying to block wherever his eyes drift to. “You are safe. The gun’s gone. Kate and I took care of them, okay?” 

He whimpers, and his knees give out. "Mouse-"

I support him, I help him to the floor. No use trying to keep him up. He’ll be better off down here. 

“C’mon, Crockett. You’re here. You’re in the present. You’re with me, buddy.”

He nods shakily, but his eyes are still focused on something I can't see. 

He's hyperventilating. Not good. 

But he slowly leans his cheek on my arm where I'm holding his shoulder as he tries to get a decent breath in. I throw my arm around his shoulder and pull him in. 

“Ain’t your fault, buddy,” I whisper. “Ain’t your fault.” I just try to hold him steady, hold him quiet, hold him. Been there. Been there, man. The words are on my lips before they’re in my brain. 

“Good Saint Luke, we are told that before you met our dear Lord and became a follower of His and a writer of His Gospel, you were a doctor. Bless and help and protect my doctor, okay? Obtain for him the graces he most needs to do his work well and serve God generously. Help him to be strong, and… and gentle, and wise, and good, and… and himself again. And give him the strength and his health. Lord knows he needs that. Help us all, good Saint Luke, to imitate very closely the life and virtues of our Blessed Mother Mary, about whom you wrote so beautifully, and of Him whom she bore into this world, Jesus Christ our Lord and our God, who lives and is King for ever and ever. Amen.”

I cross myself shakily. 

He's clutching my arm, and his breath is still quick, but it's deepening. 

"M-Mouse…" he says shakily. "Mouse."

“Hey, man. Welcome back.”

"I… I didn't want to go back."

“We never do,” I whisper. “But you’ve got yourself an anchor. I got you.”

He leans into me, still staring off in the distance, muttering under his breath.

“Don’t gotta be in a uniform to have been in battle, Crockett. You’ve seen a battlefield, same as me. Don’t feel like you gotta be ashamed of that.”

"Battlefield's fuckin' chasin' me," he whispers.

I scoff. “Fuckin’ chase it back. Make the battlefield fuckin’ scared it ever tried to chase you in the first place.”

"Haven't bothered," he says. "Been tryin' to make sure Kate's okay. Jay. Kelley. You. I'll run after."

“We’re okay. We’re more okay when we know  _ you’re _ okay. Goes both ways. Made sense in my head.”

He chuckles breathlessly, leaning his head into me again. "Yes, sir," he says quietly. 


	25. A Hundred Days Have Made Me Older

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate takes over stabilizing Crockett during the gala, and while they take a break to share a dance, they share more than they bargained for. Kate also realizes the bet she and Mouse made wasn't what she wanted in the first place and sets it up for failure. The Gerwitzes go a little hard with one of the donors, leading to a tender moment with Crockett and..... the introduction of someone new who comes along at the perfect time.

**Kate**

I finish up with the latest donor and get her promise of more cold hard cash, but it’s not her that I’m worried about. I head out of the hall, turn the corner, and I see the two of them still sitting on the floor. He looks a lot better than he had looked before—definitely less pale, definitely breathing less rapidly—so I essentially tap Mouse out. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he heads back into the fray.

I slide down to the floor next to him. “Hey, ‘Kett, how you doin’?”

He shoots me a smile that doesn't look quite like his own. It's a smile filled with tension, and therefore, not _ his _ smile. He opens his mouth to reply but I can pinpoint the moment the words get stuck in his throat, and he just opts for a still slightly shaking thumbs up. 

I still don’t like the look of him, so I start shaking my head. “C’mon, ‘Kett. You keep it bottled up inside, it’s gonna explode someday. Trust me. I’m Irish. And Catholic. It’s what we do. So you know you can talk to me. You know I saw that through to the end. To the fuckin’ bitter end. And I don’t regret a single second. So, talk to me, Crockett. I don’t care if we’re in this gala. If you need to get it out, we’re gonna get it out, you and me.”

He looks tired, but he shoots me that stupid tense smile again. 

"I'm fine, Kate."

“You are clearly not fine,” I hush-whisper. “You jumped out of your skin when that little old lady from Pasadena touched your shoulder. She could barely reach your shoulder, ‘Kett. I’m sure if she weren’t in such a public place, she would have grabbed your ass instead, I mean, c’mon, I’m a married woman, but you have a nice ass, I am sorry, I have had too much wine, so listen. Tell me what’s wrong. Talk to me. We’ll talk through it.”

He considers it, looking away from me. He stares back out over the hallway, and I kind of hate the way he's leaning into the corner as if he's backed himself in.

He reaches for my hand, still not looking at me. I take it, knowing I would never turn that down. Instead of speaking, since I know it’s not really getting anywhere, I lean against the wall with him, just clutching his hand. 

“Why don’t we get back in there, okay? The sooner we get the funding, the sooner we can blow this joint.”

He nods once, and tries to get up. He forces himself up on his knees, and leans on the wall for breath. I nearly stumble on the hem of my dress a little, but I fix it, adjusting the slit and blowing the hair back from my face. 

“You okay to go back in there?”

"Yeah… yeah," he says as he uses the wall as leverage to get up. He wobbles briefly, then tries to smile at me.

“Why don’t you and I just go back in there, not worry about donors, and just breathe for a second?” I suggest.

He nods again, then catches himself. "Sure," he says, voice low.

I clutch his hand tightly in mine as we slip back into the room. He’s tense still, tense as hell, but I linger back, in the shadows, letting him reacclimate. I listen to the strings. Whatever it is, it’s a nice piece. Never been much of a strings person, but I could get behind this. 

He's gripping my hand, and his breaths even out. His eyes are still roving, all over the place. 

“Crockett. ‘Kett. You’re fine. No one is here to hurt you.” I lead his hand across my waist, to the other side, in a half embrace.

With a sudden shudder he leans forward, pulling me close. He almost sighs. I run my fingers over his back. 

“We’re gonna make it through the night, okay?” I whisper, but then I see Mouse. “He’s with another donor! He’s gonna beat me. I know it. I got another 50 from the old lady, put me to 230, but good lord, Crockett. I can’t believe it. He’s gonna beat me.”

He's suddenly shaking, but then I hear the low laugh. "Calm down, darlin'," he says softly. 

“You don’t understand,” I whisper. “Our _ lives _ are at stake. If he wins…”

"Kate, for once, ignore him," he commands lowly, a small smile on his face. He pulls back and clutches my hand.

“He’s hard to ignore,” I whisper, watching him. In his uniform, tall and proud. Not the guy he used to be, for sure. He throws his head back and I hear his loud laugh over the music. “Maybe losing wouldn’t be that bad.”

"There you go," Crockett hums slowly. "Come to think of it, I don't even know what bet you're talking about."

I keep watching Mouse. He’s a natural. He’s so personable, even when he thinks he’s being awkward. 

“I wanted to wait after my doctorate was finished,” I murmur. The way he immediately went to Crockett’s aid. The way he points at Kelley, waits for her to give him a thumbs up before he continues. “He wanted to start now. We turned it into a bet. Crockett, I have to lose.”

His eyebrow creases, and the gears start turning in his head. "Wait for what, Kate? Start what now?"

I chuckle, the tears coming to my eyes. His words settle in my mind, but I can’t seem to answer them. Only one thought floats around. A thought that first really hit me last October. 

“He’s gonna be the father of my children, Crockett, and I changed my mind. I wanna start now.” 

He blinks, like he's surprised, but his smile says otherwise.

"I'm glad to hear that," he says, smiling at me. "Now. Kate," he says. "You've been there so much. I'd like to ask you this. May I have this dance, my darlin'?" 

I nod, wiping the tears from my face. He hums once, then yanks my hand and pulls me onto the edge of the dance floor. He's still a little shaky, but there's purpose in his movement as he almost automatically half-bows to me. I return with a slight curtsy, but my knee makes it a little hard. This time of the year makes it creaky.

He's pensive as we sway, his eyes fixed somewhere over my right shoulder. As the slow music floats over the crowd, the droning murmur of the sheer number of people, he relaxes ever so slightly. 

A tiny bit of his own smile crinkles around his eyes as he continues to stare over my shoulder. 

"Still remember when Momma taught us how to dance with a lady," he murmurs. "Dancin' til one, two in the mornin'."

“You’ve got me as long as you need me, Dr. Marcel,” I say. “Just don’t tell my husband.”

He laughs softly. "Momma loved dancin', she… wasn't until Dad brought her here that she really did again. When the embassy shit started, it turned the fun-lovin' people into scared crowds. At least here, she could dance again." He nods, and the look on his face says he's slipped half into the memory.

“Tell me about her,” I find myself saying dreamily, listening to the strings and slipping into the memory with Crockett.

He shakes his head, but it's fond. "She was… she was a lady. She loved to laugh, and dance, and she sang all the time. She always would gather the three of us boys and Dad, and she'd play guitar." He smiles, and there's even more of him back in that smile. "She'd talk about Tehran. Her home. Her life before everythin' went to hell. Her family, the land; she had stories upon stories."

“That was the one place I actually felt… safe,” I murmur. I can feel the haze over my eyes, but it’s not a cloud this time. It’s more like… a pleasant fog. “The people, they didn’t look at me with disdain. I remember, a lot of the time, I would wear a hijab, you know, out of respect, because that was my job, right? I was walking through, oh, what’s the word, _ Bāzār e Bozorg, _the Grand Bazaar, and there was this woman with these beautiful hijabs. The fabric was just… I’ve never seen anything so intricate. I remember her helping me pick out this gorgeous grayish green scarf that she said ‘matches my impossible eyes’. I wore that until... “ I find myself drifting. “I never saw it after Nangalam.”

He does look at me then. 

"That's how…" he clears his throat. "I wish I could have seen you there. I wish I could have gone. With you… with her." He has to clear his throat again just to finish his words. I know who he means.

“A lot of people would tell you the Golestan Palace was the best, but the whole area between it and the bazaar and the Negarestan Gardens was my favorite,” I say, the words flowing off my tongue, “Something about that neighborhood. Even when I was in my desert camo. No one seemed… hateful. And I was there at a time when it would have been easy to hate me. What I’m saying is, I feel like I already know your mother. I know the spirit of the city. And I know you. It’s something as simple as filling in the blanks.”

He smiles again, and there's tears on his face. He goes to speak but stops, pulling away as he doubles over, his hands on his knees, the tears streaming. 

“Oh, my God, ‘Kett, are you okay? Was it something I said?” I start to pull him over to the edge of the dance floor. Lord, I don’t need him having a breakdown right now.

He glances up to me, and it's like he's seeing me for the first time. Tears streaming, and he's almost shaking. "Kate," he mutters breathlessly. "Kate…"

I glance back, I glance to Mouse, but he’s gladhanding with one of the potential donors. I’m lost here. I’m… I’m just grasping onto him, making sure he doesn’t fall down. “What did I do? What did I say? Did I say something wrong?”

He almost sobs, and he pulls himself up enough to look me in the eye. 

"You… you just-" he stammers before drawing a shaking breath. "I haven't-" he pauses, his brown eyes boring into mine.

“Crockett, you have to talk to me,” I murmur.

He reaches a hand up to rub his eyes, tearstained by now. 

"You spoke- we're speaking Pashto," he says softly, and he's bent over again, gasping for air.

I stop. I breathe, and I never even realized it. When did I even switch? “I haven’t… I haven’t spoken it outside of class in years. I didn’t know. You must have mentioned Tehran and my brain just… switched. You… you got all that, didn’t you? Your mother taught you… she taught you Pashto…”

And the weight of what I had done settles on my shoulders.

He's crying, and he's nodding. "She taught all three of us boys," he manages to get out. 

“I’m so sorry,” I find myself murmuring. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t… It just happened. I’m… I’m sorry.”

"No!" He sobs suddenly, and he straightens enough to face me. "You did nothing wrong." His voice is soft, and the tears are still coming. "She's the last person I've ever been able to speak it fluently with." He stares at me.

“Oh. _ Oh. _ Oh, Crockett,” I whisper. “You… you didn’t need all this emotion tonight, and here I am, laying it on you.” I realize I’m still in it. I’m still speaking Pashto. It turns to sand on my tongue. I grab a glass of champagne from the nearest server and chug it all in one go.

Crockett says nothing, and he stands almost frozen. Almost like he's dreaming, he scrubs a hand over his face, tears in his eyes yet. "I blinked," he whispers, "and it was like she was right back here for a moment." His hand finds mine.

“We don’t have to stop, you know,” I say. “This can be… this can be our thing. God, we could talk shit about anyone we wanted to. No one would be the wiser,” I say, letting out a loud chuckle. 

He laughs, and there's still the tears in his eyes but he's smiling. He pulls me closer, still ever so shaky, and brushes a kiss on my forehead. 

He pulls me closer to the table and shakes his head, grinning softly. 

“How you doin’ now?” I whisper. “Feeling any better?” 

He nods, wrapping me in his arms for a moment. "Thank you, darlin'."

“Good. Good. Okay.” I scan the crowd and Mouse starts bouncing his way back to us. 

“Guess who just hit a_ quarter of a million, _” he says excitedly. “That’s a metric fuckton of cash, Crockett! What was the goal again?”

"Total was 1.1 mil, kiddo. You've done so well," Crockett chuckles. 

“Think Gaffney will waive any more of our medical bills?” He says. “On the account of being fucking awesome?” He raises his hand and I give him a high five. “Where you at, baby?”

“A cool 230,” I say. “That’s almost…. _ Fuck, _Mouse. That’s almost half the total.”

"I think you both are completely smokin' the room, my darlin's," Crockett hums, watching us with a smile.

“Am I seriously beating you?” Mouse says, looking… gleeful. “How the hell? This is crazy, babe.”

“Sure is crazy,” I say, smiling, glancing to Crockett. “So crazy. Damn, better try to recapture that lead, huh? Crockett, you got anyone in mind? Maybe a challenge?”

He nods, and he looks almost delighted. 

"Cillian and Ciara O'Dwyer," he says, gesturing to the middle aged couple two tables over. "He's stingy as hell, and she's the severe Irish matron. See what you can do."

I crack my neck, making a good show of it for Mouse. “Let’s go. Gotta get my money’s worth on this dress.” Absentmindedly, I pull my hair back. Getting itchy. Mouse fixes one of the curls that had come loose from a bobby pin before we start over. 

They see us coming, and he automatically stiffens. She almost looks down her nose up at us. "Can we assist you young folk?" She says, her accent thick.

I’ve had just enough wine to almost stifle a giggle. “Good evening! I’m Kate Cavanagh Gerwitz, and this is my husband, Greg.”

"Cavanagh? You're Irish?" She asks, looking over us severely.

“Yes, actually! My great-grandparents came from County Kilkenny.”

"Kilkenny, hm?" Cillian O'Dwyer looks up, and there's a flash on his face. "That's where we hail from."

I gasp. This is less about money right now. I’m freaking out. “What? Seriously? They… they left in the 1900s, but I think they came from…” I work up the right pronunciation, “_ Gráig na Manach _?”

He looks almost excited. "We're from _ Cois Na Bearu, _ next over, Ciara, can you believe this?"

Greg just takes a backseat, and I think he’s fine with it. “I haven’t done a lot of ancestry, but I’ve got to have some distant cousins over there still. Wow! This is crazy! Dr. Marcel just sent us over her to… to chat, I don’t think he had any clue of the connection we would have.”

“He probably had an idea,” Greg interjects, resting a hand on my waist.

Ciara gazes at me, ignoring Mouse completely. "You're young," she says.

I chuckle. “Eh, well, sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” I say, leaning into Mouse. He steps behind me like a brick wall. Feels nice to be working together on this. Lord. Why did we make this stupid bet? I should know better. We’re more of a force when we team up.

"Oh?" She asks, her eyebrow going up as she glances me over.

“Well, Irish and stubborn,” I say, eyeing a server. Mouse grabs me a glass of champagne and slides it into my hand. 

"If he's military," she says, "What are you?"

“Currently a professor of history at University of Illinois, Chicago. I also am a part of their Reserve Officers’ Training Corps program. But I served for almost eight years in the Army.”

She nods. "Medical discharge, I presume?"

“What?” I ask quietly. “Why? Oh. Um, yes. Medical discharge.” 

She cracks a smile, ever so small. "Former nurse. Now you-" she glances to Mouse.

“Y—yes, yes ma’am?”

"Where did you serve?"

“Afghanistan, ma’am. Did two tours, came home, re-enlisted, and did another two.”

She nods, and then glances to her husband. 

"Why should we support Gaffney?" She asks us bluntly.

I start my usual script. “Neither of us would be alive without Gaffney,” I say simply. 

"And why is that?" Ciara prods.

I peer at her. She’s going to be a hard one. I can feel it. Greg’s hand on my waist tightens. 

“I was shot in the line of duty,” I say. “I was discharged after eight years, and I… I came home. My PTSD was so bad, I ended up working with a lot of the employees of Gaffney. Emergency Department and psychiatry alike. I found a new normal through them. I wouldn’t… wouldn’t be here without them.”

She nods, almost impressed. "I see a scar on your shoulder, is that what prompted it, if I may?"

I straighten. “Yes. Yes, ma’am. It is.”

She nods, seemingly taken aback by my honesty. "Well. Cillian?" 

He nods too, almost shocked. "If Gaffney is what means so much to you and our other soldiers, well…"

“It’s not just our soldiers,” I say. “They have rallied around the community for a number of catastrophes. Personal or otherwise.”

"Is that so?"

She’s a hard one. I’m getting a little frustrated. Shouldn’t be this hard. But she’s Irish, and a nurse. 

“Both of us, actually, went through separate situations where it was a surprise we could walk afterwards.”

Both eyebrows almost meet her hairline. "If you don't mind, may I ask?" She's enthralled by this point.

Greg breathes in and rescues me. “The second time I was injured in the line of duty, I was in a wheelchair. If it weren’t for Gaffney, I wouldn’t be able to walk.”

I look at Ciara, and I feel like I’m nearly fuming. 

Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is open in a little 'o'.

“Mr. and Mrs. O'Dwyer, how much do you follow current events?” I say. I hear Greg whisper my name. 

"He does, more than myself," Ciara says, with Cillian nodding.

I pull part of my skirt back, showing them the gnarly scars around my knee. “You see these? Would you like to know how I got them?”

They nod. I think they're shocked enough they don't know what else to do.

“Four years ago, you remember that serial rapist and murderer running Chicago’s Little Italy and UIC neighborhoods?”

"Yes, ma'am," Cillian nods. 

“I was his last victim.”

There's a smooth voice and a hand that brushes my shoulder. 

"How is everyone's night thus far?" Crockett steps in beside me, a polite smile on his face. "Cillian, Ciara, I see you've met my good friends Captain Cavanagh and her husband Specialist Gerwitz. I trust you've had a pleasant conversation." 

“I was just telling them how Gaffney brought me back to life after I took out Chicago’s last serial killer single handedly,” I say through my teeth.

He doesn't blink, nodding graciously. "Wonderful," he says with a warm smile at the O'Dwyers. 

Ciara seems struck dumb, but Cillian speaks up. "I'd be happy to contribute, say, 100 thousand," he says, nodding to me with respect. 

“Great. Good. Thank… thank you,” I say, nodding. “Please… please excuse me.”

I head away from the table, finding our home base, when Greg stops me.

“Went a little hard there, didn’t you?”

“Gotta. I gotta. It’s Gaffney. We have to. We owe it to them.”

“Yes, I know, but do you gotta scare the donors?”

I run a hand through my hair. He grumbles a little and fixes it again. 

“I… they need to be fully funded. Just… I want everything to be okay, alright?”

“Kate, what the hell are you talking about—“

“I wanna lose the bet,” I finally blurt. “I don’t want to wait. I want them to have everything they need so… so when I have to—to give birth at Gaffney, I know they have everything, okay?”

He bursts into a wide grin. “Seriously? Really? You wanna…. you seriously want to do this?”

“Yes, dammit! Yes. The bet is off. We’re a team. We… we gotta do it together.”

“That means we’re to 580, you know.”

“Shit, Mouse.”

"Kate! KateKateKate!" Kelley slides to a stop in front of me, wide-eyed. "That was amazing! You just, you-" she waves her hands, making incredulous noises. 

“Wait, the fuck did you see?” I ask, almost out of breath.

She's bright-eyed and bouncing. "The part where you were all 'do you keep up with current events' and they're like, 'what' and you go boom with the scar and you shocked the pants off them!"

“How many people saw that…”

She shrugs. "Dunno. I did. They gave 200! He gave 100, she doubled it! Kate, you angel!" She bounces forward, kissing my cheek.

“What! What?! 680. $680,000,” I mutter. 

Crockett stops in front of me. "Katie Kat?" 

“$680,000, my dear sir,” I say, the trauma slipping away for once. Using it against people for monetary gain feels good. 

He smirks.

"Listen, you done good, darlin', just… you're goin' a bit hard and scarin' folks." 

Kelley's bouncing. "It's good!"

"It's excessive," he corrects her gently before looking at me.

“$200,000 could go a long way for new equipment,” I purr, batting my eyelashes at him. Greg checks my phone, gives me a wink. 

Good. My evil plan is working. 

"Your flirting does nothing to me, Kate," Crockett hums. "Seriously. You sort of scared the O'Dwyers." 

Kelley dances around again. "Yes!" She crows. "Kate, keep it up!" 

With a tired look at me, Crockett reaches out and traps Kelley under his arm, his other hand over her mouth. Kelley manages a muffled, "Fuck me up, Kate!" as 'Kett groans.

“Hell, yeah!” I say, a little too loud. “Make it rain!”

Greg groans as loudly as ‘Kett does. “Crockett, I’m so done.”

He almost responds but instead yanks his hand away from Kelley, wiping it viciously on her shoulder. 

"Kelley Jean, knock that off this instant," he mutters as she beams at him. I just start losing it, using Kelley as support. 

When I look at Greg, he just stares at Crockett. 

“You’re my date now,” he deadpans. 

Crockett laughs, throwing his head back before he reaches out, his hand slipping to the back of Greg’s neck. "Fine by me, Greg," he murmurs.

He just takes a dreamy step towards Crockett. “Hey! Hey, buddy!” It takes a little too long for me to get his attention, but I start waving my left hand at him. 

"Greg," 'Kett purrs, his hand sliding up _ my _husband's cheek. "Good to see ya, darlin'... come here often?"

“Only for you, baby. Only for you,” Greg says. I’m both turned on and angry. Stop it, Kate. Stop. 

Crockett just steps closer, pressing up against Greg, almost as if he fits there. "Oh Mister Gerwitz," he says lowly, batting his eyes, letting his drawl come out full force. "What a pleasant surprise, my darlin' boy."

“Well, Doctor Marcel, it’s such a joy to accompany you to such an auspicious event,” Greg drawls back. He can’t do it. He sounds too Chicago. 

Crockett gets a wicked gleam in his eye, and I hear Kelley's quiet "oh no" from beside me. 

Crockett Marcel, my friend, is laying kisses up _ my husband's _jaw. "How's that, darlin' Gregory?" he hums.

“Dancin’ a dangerous line, boy,” I growl, finding another glass of champagne. “Paybacks are a bitch.” 

He ignores me as his hand finds the back of Greg’s neck and his other rests lightly on his chest. He stares into Greg’s eyes.

“Oh, God,” Greg whispers. “It’s finally happening. It’s better than I ever imagined.”

"Let me make it one better, baby," Crockett hums as the hand on Greg’s chest comes up to anchor on his cheek, and Crockett's other hand winding into his hair. "I'm not sure what you taste like, but I want to know." He glances once wickedly at me before leaning in and touching his lips gently to Greg’s. 

“This is _ not _ fair!” I cry. “This… not fair. Not… you… Crockett! _ Crockett, _we are fighting! This… no! Not fair!”

He holds a finger to shush me as he breaks for air and then _ does it again. _ Finally he pulls back just enough to look at Greg. 

"How was that, my love?"

Greg leans onto the table, staring off into nothingness. He opens his mouth a few times, trying to speak, but all that comes out is the stutters. 

“This _ isn’t fair, _ ” I say, pointing at Crockett. “We are a _ team_, Crockett James Marcel. A team. You are _ breaking apart _ this family! I am _ upset! _”

He shrugs, then reaches his hand to Greg, touching his fingers gently under his chin. "Chin up, baby boy," he murmurs. 

He turns to me with that wicked twinkle. "Kate," he calls. 

I’m so mad I can’t even speak. “You. No. No. I—no. I didn’t even get it on video,” I whine.

He scoffs. "Well if that's the way you feel."

He glances back to Greg with a wink, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he gazes at my husband. Greg involuntarily whimpers. I reach over and smack him.

“You are stronger than that, Gerwitz! Pull yourself together!” 

Crockett chuckles low, leaning backwards on the table. He beckons me closer, and yanks Greg by the tie. I have to listen. I can’t _ not _ listen.

"I'm just here to keep you both on your toes," Crockett says lowly, and he watches us both from under his lashes, looking up at us almost obscenely. "In any way I have to."

Greg peers at the watch on his wrist. “Uh, how much longer does this thing go on? We might have to go.”

Crockett actually _ pouts. _"Leavin' me alone so soon, darlin'?"

Greg glares at me. “If he doesn’t stop, or if we don’t go right now… I’m callin’ in New Years.”

“I’m _ not _ pulling a Brando’s! We cannot. This is a _ nice _ place, Mouse, and you’re in your uniform!”

He whines a little.

Crockett chuckles as he fiddles with his tie, and he looks at Greg with those eyes. "You know of all people, Gregory, that the uniform? _ Irresistible. _" 

Breathe. Breathe, Kate. Just breathe. You’ve been through harder situations. You can get through this. It’s just your best friend, your literal _ brother_, hitting on your husband. Is this weird? This isn’t weird. I start slapping Crockett’s hands away. “Stop it stop it stop it!”

He turns the eyes to me, and it's almost like melted dark chocolate. 

"Katie," he purrs, leaning far enough back he can gaze up at me. His hand brushes back my hair as he bites his lip. 

"You look beautiful, so beautiful, honey, I don't even know where to look," he says.

“Kelley, help,” I murmur. But I’m lost. So lost. “Kelley, help me… his siren song is too strong."

She's gone. If I squint, I can see her beside Dr. Charles.

"Listen, baby, darlin', Crockett hums as he drops a kiss to Greg's jaw and touches my cheek gently. "I've been wonderin' how this felt for a while," he almost giggles.

“We have been _ trying _ for weeks now!” Greg grumbles. “Why you playin’ so hard to get?!”

He sighs, long and low, his eyes closing as an easy smile spreads over his face. "I will not answer that." 

Greg finally looks at me, looking completely exhausted. “Kate,” he whispers. “I may not be completely straight.”

Crockett snorts. "Baby, I knew that when I met you." 

“Well, now I feel like I’m interrupting an intimate moment.” I hear a delicate British accent from beyond the table. I know she had another event tonight, but damn. _ Damn. _ With her dark hair, and that deep maroon color… her dress, framing her shoulders, form fitting to her hips, flaring out with a wide slit to her knee. She raises an eyebrow to me. “Is this what you do every weekend, Kate?”

I straighten, I chuckle a little, and look to Crockett. 

He looks up, and he sees the stranger. He looks confused before he recognizes the woman in front of him from the picture I'd shown him. 

His eyes widen and he bounds up, detangling himself from Greg and I. "Ma'am, you- Kate- I-" he stutters, that damn blush creeping up his cheeks.

Greg has to turn around to stop himself from giggling. I start laughing a little, then wink at her. Her pleasant grin upturns a little. 

Hey. I told him payback was a bitch. “Dr. Crockett Marcel, meet Dr. Raelynn Harlowe-Moore. Raelynn, Crockett.”

He extends his hand out, eyes still wide. "Dr. Harlowe-Moore, a pleasure," he says as he gently kisses her hand. She giggles a little. “Thank you for the invite, Dr. Marcel. I still feel like I’m owed a bit of explanation of what was going on upon my arrival.”

He blanks, and I can see the wheels turning as he tries to think of something.

"That was… that was just- I was helping- it was-" he stops, running a hand over his face. "Oh, I don't know," he mutters under his breath, embarrassed. 

She stops, raising her eyebrow at him, with a long pause. I can feel the terror. And then she looks to me. “Is he always like this?”

“What, comes off like he knows what he’s doing, then either devolves into a taunting, flirty asshole or stuttery baby?”

"Hey!" He cries, pouting at me. "I do not!"

“Stuttery baby,” I say, pointing at him. “Yeah, this is relatively standard behavior.”

Crockett looks _ horrified. _

And she waits a beat. 

“Oh, thank God,” she sighs to the ceiling, letting out a groan. “You know how bored I’ve been all night? ‘Thank you for coming’, ‘what is your speciality?’ So bloody boring. Nice to see a prequel to a threesome among friends.”

“Actually, that’s Greg, my husband,” I say, pointing to him. He turns around and grins, waving at Raelynn until she starts to laugh.

Crockett is frozen, staring at her. He looks almost teary-eyed, but still suitably horrified. 

“Oh, chin up, love, you can’t scare me that easy,” she says. “Where the hell can I get a drink around here?” 

He blinks, then reaches into his pocket. "This was in case of emergencies, or if I had to bribe one of them," he points to Greg and I. He quickly slips out a small flask, offering it to her, a flush high on his cheeks as he gazes at her. "Milady," he says breathlessly, bowing just a bit.

“That’s it, not attracted to you anymore,” Greg says, “I’m out,” before walking back to the bar.

“What’ve you got in here? With that drawl, I’m assuming bourbon?” she says, immediately taking it and drinking… a lot, before she gets an answer. “Oh, playing against type, I see. This is Kate’s drink.”

I scramble to take the flask from her and do a shot myself. 

He shrugs. "I'm going dry currently, and if I had to bribe a Gerwitz, I can get Mouse by batting my eyelashes, and Kate with whiskey."

“Could swap it, and it would still work,” I mutter. “Besides. There’s plenty of night left to go. How was your event?”

She just rolls her eyes. “Fine, fine. Museum fundraising, hospital fundraising. Is it as hard for you as it is for us?”

“Where are we at, ‘Kett?” I say. 

He's still a bit stuttery, but tries to think. "April and Ethan dragged in 300, Maggie managed 250, and then you two with 680."

I quickly do the math. “Wait. We’re over the goal. Damn. Crockett, did you even think we would?! I don’t know how those numbers work.”

Raelynn leans down on the table across from ‘Kett, and without looking away from him, takes the flask from my hand and takes another long drink.

He watches her, and there's an involuntary whimper from him as he stares at her. I lean over to Crockett. 

“Payback’s a bitch,” I hiss in his ear.

He bats me away as he continues to gaze at her. 

"You're beautiful," he says dreamily, and I don't think he even knows he did.

She nearly snorts whiskey, then passes it to me. “You are particularly handsome yourself, especially when you’ve fallen into some sort of trance. Tell me, Kate, is this normal for him?”

“Fun fact, actually, never really seen him do this before,” I tattle, and she gasps, smiling. 

“I’ve never quite had that effect on a person, should I take notes for a scientific study?”

“Might be all the shit I’ve told him about you.”

“I hope you didn’t warn him about everything,” she whispers. “Let the man discover a few things on his own.”

I lean on my hand, grinning at Crockett.

"You're so damn beautiful," he whispers. "You're hot. More than hot. You're so amazing. Powerful."

She leans down on the table. “Oh, Dr. Marcel, you have no idea.” With that, she finishes off the flask and starts walking backwards towards the dance floor, gesturing with her head and her smile to Crockett.

“You will then learn your measure, when you spend a night with your match,” I whisper the Pashtun proverb. “You can thank me at your rehearsal dinner.”

Crockett actually whines, following her, almost tripping over his own feet as he gazes at her.

I let out a breath as Greg returns. He looks over the dance floor, over Crockett and Raelynn.

“We’re never gonna get that damn threesome now, you fool,” he mutters, shaking his head.

I see Crockett laugh. And it’s a genuine laugh. 

“I’m strangely okay with it.”


	26. There's Music in Your Laughter From the Floor Up to the Rafters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett takes the plunge and invites Dr. Harlowe-Moore to dance, leading to a deeper conversation either anticipated. Raelynn quickly learns about the dynamics of the group, receives a tour of Gaffney, and ends the night with Kelley, the Gerwitzes, Dr. Marcel, and the last piece—who was clearly not in the best of conditions on his arrival.

**Crockett**

I follow her, and I have just enough sense to at least bow. "May I have this dance, Dr. Harlowe-Moore?"

“Dr. Marcel, as long as you keep talking in that accent of yours, I’m willing to dance all night.”

I step closer, and my hand goes to her waist gently. "I'm willin' to do anythin' to talk to you more," I hear myself say, and God, she's beautiful.

“So,” she begins, looking up to me. In the lights of the venue, her hazel-blue eyes sparkle. Wait, that’s not just from the lights. She’s got a grin on her lips that seems… devious. “How long did it take for Kate to declare to you that she had found your wife?”

I shrug, but my heart thumps. "After I made sure she wasn't hyperventilating aside, almost the second she got in the door."

She squints. “Early January? Was she wearing that ratty Captain America shirt?”

I think back. "Yeah, come to think of it."

She lets out a loud laugh. A full bodied laugh. One that makes a few dancers look. “That was after our first meeting,” she says. “One meeting! She had at least the sense to wait until she and I got to know each other before she mentioned it to me.”

I laugh too. "I was skeptical of the idea of her setting me up, but the way she described you…" I have to take a breath. "Well."

“Now I have to know,” she whispers conspiratorially, spinning out from me and spinning back in with the grace of someone who went to finishing school. “Just how exactly did she describe me? Spare no detail, Dr. Marcel.”

I gently catch her, twirling her under my arm. 

"You're thirty-five, with a Ph D in Middle Eastern history, hmm, Kate knows my weaknesses," I say before I know I even am.

“She’s known me for a month and a half, and she knows mine, if it comforts you,” she says. “And apparently, in the words of Kate, you ‘would tick all my boxes’.”

I choke. Damn Kate. 

I grin, ducking my head. "Helps that you seem to tick all mine, and ones I didn't know I had," I mumble under my breath.

“Oh?” She says. “I’ll share if you share.”

I don't dare raise my head, I know damn well I'm blushing. I barely glance at her. "Beautiful," I whisper. "Sweet. Playful." My hand slips from hers to gently brush her cheek.

“Oh, well, those are some very nice descriptors,” she says, smirking. “I heard ‘dedicated’.’Honorable.’ ‘A hardworking, smart, cheeky man who deserves someone to keep him on his toes’.” As her words drift, a bit of that facade seems to chip away. “Didn’t think this night would go the way it has,” she barely whispers.

I pull her just a tiny bit closer. "Is it going at least a good way?" I ask, and I'm hanging, I'm waiting for her answer and I can barely breathe, but it's anticipation.

“Something tells me you’re going to find out sooner rather than later,” she says, her eyes darting from my eyes to my lips. 

I almost gasp, but I lean in, just a bit. 

"Is that so, ma'am?" I tease, but somehow, I know she's got me good. 

“You’re taking too long,” she says, grasping onto my lapel and pulling me into her. 

I gasp into her lips, and suddenly I know I'd do anything to kiss her again. To hear her laugh.

When she finally breaks the kiss, she gets stern. 

“One question.”

"Anythin'," I say breathlessly, trying to etch her face into my memory.

“Can you speak Pashto?”

"Yes," I whisper, slipping into my own mother's language like a warm blanket. "Yes, I can."

I look to Kate. She salutes me with a smirk.

I’m in danger. 

* * *

**Raelynn**

I am in danger. 

While Kate has definitely gained my trust, I don’t know how to react to such a paradigm shift. I had no intention, when I came to Chicago, to fall for anyone. 

Especially not someone like me. 

But here we are, and within the hour of meeting this Crockett Marcel, I find myself deeply in danger.

But I find myself at another cocktail table for the night, and while I wish it would not end, I have to escape from this formality nightmare. 

“Who would like to give me a tour of this fantastic hospital?” I sigh, downing another glass of champagne in one go. 

I see Crockett perk up. "If I may…" he says hesitantly, extending his hand.

Kate, in her way, finishes off her champagne and grabs onto her husband’s arm. 

“For the love of God, I need out of here.”

Crockett laughs as he steps around. "Dr. Harlowe-Moore, may I?" He offers me his arm with a wink.

I take it. Such a gentleman. I eye Kate. She just gives me a wink. 

Maybe she knows me better than I realized.

"Let's… okay," Crockett murmurs. "Tour. Okay. This is fine."

“So, Crockett. What is your speciality?”

"Well," he begins, his voice low. "Trained as a trauma surgeon, and been workin' in the emergency department for… for years."

We walk out of the room, and I’m thankful for the reprieve. “And how long have you been in Chicago?”

He blinks, side-eyeing me. "What makes you think I'm not from the Windy City?" He asks playfully.

“We both have accents that betray our own origins,” I admit. 

He hides a smile. "Been here about two and a half years," he finally allows. "New Orleans born and raised."

“I was born in Cambridge,” I say, “but I grew up in Kabul. At least, until we had to leave.”

He looks at me shyly. "Kate may have mentioned that," he admits under his breath.

“She mentioned you had connections to the area,” I explain. “But she refused to explain why.”

He seems to stammer for a second, but recovers. "My… my mom was from Tehran, actually, I grew up with the influence of Iranian culture."

“That’s why the Pashto,” I murmur. Kate knows what she’s doing. I’ll give her that. “So, tonight. What was this all about, Dr. Marcel? I'd like to know more about the man I’ve already kissed.”

"The event is for fundraising, hopefully get the ED fixed up, maybe update one of the ORs, perhaps some new equipment," he hums, brushing his fingers against the wall. I don't know if he's ignoring the second half of my words or if he's simply too nervous to make the connection.

“Did you get what you needed?” I ask. “We had a fundraising event tonight as well. I left after we received commitments for just enough. I’m hoping you did a little better.” He seems distracted, but for the best reasons. 

"We… yeah. We hit our goal." He stops at a balcony, looking out over the main floor. He scans it once, twice, before looking back to me, a small smile on his face. "You're a hell of a lady, Dr. Harlowe-Moore."

“Nah,” I say, leaning over the balcony and looking down. “I just know what I’m looking for.”

"Any questions, ma'am?" He asks me, a twinkle in his eyes.

“How the hell are you still single?”

He blushes again. "Never had the time, really, always… always workin', or somethin'."

“Yeah. Yeah, I understand that,” I whisper. “More than most. I’ve been all around the world. You want to know something?”

"Yes!" He blurts before reining himself back.

“I never thought I would like Chicago,” I say with a smile. He briefly lays a warm hand on mine.

"I know that feeling," he says softly. 

"Oh!" He pulls me into the elevator. "You've gotta see the ED!"

I take his hand. The pure, unadulterated joy on his face is enough to make me giggle. 

He hits the button, and stares at me with a smile. 

His face clouds a bit as the elevator jolts, but he's back to smiling within seconds.

He pulls me out on the ground floor, sweeping his arm out. "Gaffney. ED… that way. Let's go!"

He's almost laughing as he pulls me along, down a hallway. I nearly trip over my heels, but it’s glorious. 

I can’t resist letting out a laugh as I nearly run into him when he turns a corner. 

"Behold! Gaffney Medical Center Emergency Department!" He waves grandly, almost proud. "My home."

I look over the department. It looks… for a hospital, homey. I certainly don’t feel uneasy. It might be Crockett. 

He pulls me into what I assume is the staff lounge. 

"This… I spend 80 plus hours a week in this place," he says, almost dreamily. "Well. I used to. Listen here, darlin'," he's addressing a locker, and he quickly undoes it, opening it and tossing me a tiny flask. "That's bourbon," he mutters before turning his attention to the locker. "Yes, darlin', Crockett Marcel is back, no more time away, understand?" 

He's almost giddy.

“You really love it here, don’t you?” I say softly, feeling woefully out of place in my formal gown. It comes out softer than I expect. “Something tells me not many people see this side of you. What makes me so special?”

He takes a step closer, gazing into my eyes. "You're… you're you. And if Kate says you're good people, then you're good. I trust her with my life. I have. If she trusts you," he whispers, "I do too."

He dips his head just enough to land a gentle kiss on my cheek.

“That was not an answer, Dr. Marcel.”

"I like you. You're… you're amazing. You showed up at the perfect time."

“It appears that way,” I chuckle. “Especially if you practically live here. How else was I supposed to meet you? Kate was practically adamant! If I didn’t have the other event, I would have been here earlier!”

His face clouds, ever so slightly, and he just repeats very softly, "You showed up at the perfect time."

Something tells me there is something else going on behind his eyes. Something darker, something hidden. But contrary to what my mother says, I am a patient woman. He can tell me when he’s ready. 

Why am I already planning to be around when he’s ready?

He smiles, crooked, but it's a smile. 

The door flies open, and he turns immediately, straightening up. 

"Crockett? The hell you doing here, man?" A ginger in maroon scrubs stares at him, and Crockett smiles back.

"Will, hey," he says. 

The ginger -- Will -- steps forward, and wraps an arm around him. "You were at the gala, why the hell you down here? Are you okay? You been feeling okay? What can I do? Any worse?" 

Crockett hushes him with a glance at me, and Will falls silent. 

"Wanted to show Raelynn the ED I spend most of my time in, Halstead, that permitted?" He asks, and I smile. 

"Dr. Raelynn Harlowe-Moore, meet Dr. Will Halstead," Crockett says aloud. 

“Halstead,” I murmur. “Kate’s… friend? Brother? She has never been that clear. I’m her advisor for her doctoral program.” 

"Good to meet you, ma'am," Will says, but he looks stressed. 

"What's goin' on, Halstead? What can I do?"

"Incoming!" Yells someone from the ED proper, and Will groans. 

"Swamped?" Crockett asks, and Will's half out the door. 

"Yeah, shooting down near Racine, they're all coming in," he calls. "Good to meet you ma'am!" And he's gone. 

Crockett grips my hand. 

"Raelynn, listen," he says quietly. "Would you mind terribly if I helped out for a bit, just to ease the load on Will? You can watch, if you'd care to." 

I look out the glass, and I see a flash of blue and purple. “I think I see Kate and her friends. I’ll go with them, if you think that best?”

He shrugs. "Up to you, just… don't run away, I want to see you again," he says softly, even as he's shrugging off the tuxedo jacket.

“I’m not leaving,” I say, calling to him. “You don’t even have my number yet!”

He laughs, and then as he runs out the door, he turns back and winks at me, a little bounce in his step.

"Will!" He sings out. "I'm yours for a bit, where do you want me?"

I hear a laugh, a familiar one, as Kate breezes by the staff lounge. “Hey, we’re gonna find a place to chill, wanna come?”

“I would love to find a place to ‘chill’,” I say, following after. Kate breezes past, like a goddess of war, and swings her skirt into the nurse’s station. The blonde in purple is already perched on a free counter space, checking her nails. 

She smiles brilliantly. "Mousey!" she calls. Mouse. That’s right. Even Kate uses the nickname for her husband. I stand as out of the way as I can, but the scene is an interesting one: Kate, standing near the center support, like a sentry; the blonde, her feet kicking back and forth as she sits on the ledge, and Mouse, having shed his jacket, brings a filled water bottle to one of the nurses. He kisses her on the cheek. 

“There you are, Doris.”

They’re all so comfortable here. 

"Will, you got her?" I can hear Crockett's voice, and then he bounds out of a room. 

"Dr. Marcel, we've got another incoming," Doris calls. 

"Thank you, ma'am," he calls to her, sending her a smile. In the midst of the chaos, he’s smiling. It’s a slightly manic smile. "What do we know?" 

They're yelling information at each other, and then I see the door open, and Crockett bounces once as he turns around to the door. He’s a different person. He’s focused, he’s… he’s ready. "Here we go!" He calls, and then he's jumping forward. 

There's talk I don't understand, but I can see his eyes shining, and I lean closer to try and watch. 

I glance to the three. They’re not even watching. How are they not in awe?

He's speaking so fast I can barely make out his words, but I can see the way he pushes the gurney up to the bed. 

"Alright, on my count, we're going to do-" 

"Marcel!" Will is in the door within seconds, glaring at him. "I'll lead the transfer, get ready to assist."

Crockett grumbles, but takes his place, and I can see the way his muscles bulge as he helps lift. I'm staring, and I don't quite mind.

The others clear out of their way, and he sets to work.

"I need those trauma shears," he says, reaching his hand out and a smaller blonde nurse places them in his hand. He's working quickly, and he's almost laser focused. 

"Alright, tell radiology we have a hot one!" He calls as nurses push the bed away. 

He takes a moment to snap off his gloves, and push his sleeves back up.

"What the hell?" 

He blinks as Will takes him by the arm and pulls him into the other end of the nursing station. 

"You're not supposed to be running transfers, you're still healing," he says heatedly, and Crockett shakes his head. Healing? Healing. From what? 

"I forgot, alright? Thanks for having my back," he says, and Will watches him for a moment, then nods. 

"Just, be smart, alright? Don't push yourself," he says, and Crockett smiles back.

Doris zips by, and pulls Crockett's arm. 

"We've got an animal attack vic, he's on the way in. He's self-transport, but called to give us a heads up. Can you take point?"

He nods. "On it."

I beckon Kate over. “What is Dr. Halstead talking about, Crockett healing?”

She shakes her head once. She’s stoic. That frightens me. “Now’s not the time. Have you met Kelley?”

Kate throws a thumb towards the blonde in purple. She’s taken Greg’s jacket and uses her lace sleeve—probably not the appropriate fabric—to shine some of the medals and ribbons. Perhaps I should take a better look at those… he seems to have a good number. 

I’m so distracted, but when Kate references her, Kelley finally looks up.

"Hi!" She's smiling, and she reaches a small hand out. "Kelley Marcks, Life Enrichment Head and firefighter! Pleased to meet you." 

She's too tiny to be a firefighter, but there she is, grinning like the cat who got the mouse. Or the Kate who got the Mouse, who knows. 

“Raelynn Harlowe-Moore,” I say. “You all… you all are very close, aren’t you?”

She shrugs. "Listen, this is the quick breakdown. I'm Crockett's sister. They're-" she points at Kate and Mouse, "they're my brother and sister, but also my parents? I'm their trial kid. I have so many extra parents it's not even funny," she giggles. "Mouse, I've had too much sugar." To me she winks. "Crockett likes you."

“She’s adopted,” Kate whispers to me. 

“We’re all adopted,” Mouse whispers back. 

“We’ve all been through our fair share of trauma,” Kate says back, holding up the wall. “That kind of hell bonds you.”

“What the hell have you been through?” I whisper. 

"Dr. Marcel! He's here!" Doris calls, and Crockett is shoving up his sleeves once more. "Trauma two's open," he notes as he passes. 

He blinks as a young blond man steps through the door, and he circumvents the desk quickly. "Tommy, hey man, what happened?"

There’s a significant amount of blood under his hand as he clutches it to his upper arm. 

“H-hey, Dr. Marcel,” he says shakily. He’s fairly pale. He attempts a smile. “H-how you doin’?”

Crockett loops his arm behind Tommy, almost holding him up. As soon as Crockett’s arm slips around the baby faced animal control officer, he starts to drop like a rock. 

"Hey, hey, hey, man!" He calls, grabbing onto him, the same moment that Kelley jumps forward, seemingly just realizing who it is. 

"Tommy!" She cries, slipping off the counter. "Tommy, oh God-"

Kate, from her position, nearly clotheslines Kelley, pulling her back. Mouse immediately pulls her into his arms. Kate quickly heads towards the kid. Another of their adoptive family, so it seems. 

"I need a hand for a second! Hey man, come on," Crockett calls, trying to hold the kid up, but he's starting to sink too. Without missing a beat, Kate steps between Crockett and the kid, slipping her arm around his waist and pulling him upright in one fluid motion. 

“Where we goin’, ‘Kett?” She says. She grasps onto the young man, her hand on his chest, steadying him, whispering to him. Still in her formal dress, that goddess of war has returned. 

"Trauma two," he says sharply, but nodding at her. 

He moves in first, pulling everything straight, and tries to help Kate get him onto the bed. She looks out to us, nods once. Mouse barely has enough time to let go of Kelley before she wrenches free.

"Tommy!" 

She's beside him before I can blink, and then Crockett looks up sharply. "I need room!" He barks, glancing at Kate and nodding to Kelley. "Go to his other side," he says, a bit lower. I wander over, Mouse behind me, and wait outside the glass. Kate grasps for Kelley, pulling her back, just far enough for Crockett to get to work. 

Tommy, I presume, just warily gives Kelley a smile. At first, he’s… nearly joyful, until he really looks at her. His expression shifts to one of… awe, I think. “Kelley. You… you look beautiful.”

"Thanks, honey," she says, trying to smile, but still looking scared. "You okay?"

"Tommy, hey bud," Crockett calls, cutting away at the sleeve. "Hey, Tommy, kid, look at me. Come on, man, tell me what went down." 

He tries to shrug, but then he cringes. “Ah, puppy mill gone wrong,” he says, smiling sheepishly at Kelley. 

Crockett's focused. "What got you? What kind of animal? Dog? How big, for how long? Doris, check his files, he's a frequent flier, and get me two bags of whatever type he can get!" He turns back to the boy. "What else do I need to know, bud?"

“He’s O positive,” Kate calls out to Doris. How does she know that? Who would know that offhand? 

He tries to blink, and it seems like he’s trying to clear his head. 

“Yes, sir, dog. Large dog. Pit bull, I think. It’s not her fault, she didn’t want to be there,” he says to Crockett. “Couple minutes? Maybe? Took me a second to get out. I don’t know, I wasn’t checkin’ my watch. Kelley, why are you so dressed up?”

"Charity gala, the one I invited you to but you had to work," she says, gazing at him, and I think I see stars in her eyes.

Doris comes back, and starts doing… something. 

"Doris, can you get me a couple suture knits and… and the roller stool from behind the desk?" Crockett says quietly, and she disappears once more, clasping his shoulder as she passes. 

"Tommy, hey, bud, scale of one to ten, what're you feelin'?" 

“Ah, well, probably what, a two? Three at most.”

Crockett's trying to work what he can. As Doris comes back, setting the almost-barstool on wheels within reach, he leans on it, pulling her aside. "Seems the animal chewed his bicep, not a ton of deep muscle damage that I can see, but I need an ultrasound once I can clean it. Skin's pretty mangled, I'll close what I can, can you call someone from plastics down to finish off?" He glances at the wound once more. "Blood loss is significant, but he's not showing signs of affected cognition- Hey! Tommy!" He leans forward, snapping his fingers in front of the boy's face.

“You sure that’s a two?” Mouse chuckles. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” Tommy says, smiling again. There might be a little bit wrong with him. I’m not sure what, but no one seems to think anything of it. “You all look so nice!” He says. “Thanks for catchin’ me, Tilly.”

“Anytime, Raz. We should probably give Crockett some room, yeah?”

Crockett smiles, settling down on the stool as he rips open the suture kits. 

"Ah yes, the famous Tilly and Raz meet again," he hums as he begins. 

Mouse points into the air and draws it in a circle, then points to the waiting room doors. And just like that, Kate takes Mouse’s hand and they start out. I follow, still slightly unaware of how all of this really should play out, but I follow. Kelley remains behind, her purple dress shifting around her feet as she starts to pace in the room. I think I’m starting to understand the dynamics of this little family, but I hope I find my role.

Why am I already considering my role? As we head out, I look over my shoulder, watching Crockett getting to work. 

It has been a night, to say the least. 

“Sorry to drag you into all this,” Kate says, chuckling, leaning into Mouse’s embrace. “I told you, it’s a helluva ride.”

“I feel like I stepped into the story  _ in media res, _ ” I admit. “But I think I can catch up.”

“You wanna catch up?” Kate says, raising her eyebrow. 

I look over my shoulder, back to the treatment room. “I would. I definitely would.”

When I look back, Kate fist bumps her husband. 

“You brought me into this gala for a reason, didn’t you?” I accuse. “I should be more impartial as your advisor.”

“C’mon, Raelynn. You know this is a unique situation,” Kate admits. “You’re new to the department, I’m both an easy case and a test case. You know I’m gonna work my ass off. And I trust you to tell me like it is. We’ve already established that part of our relationship.”

“And setting me up with a family member is just icing on the cake?” I say. But I can’t hide my smile. I should have probably mentioned more to him, but I find myself thinking I’ll have time. I’ll have time to tell him all the kind things Kate has said about him. 

"He's gonna be fine," I hear Crockett say behind me. "He needs some time off work, and a bit of TLC, but I think Kelley can handle it," he chuckles. "Dr. Han from plastics is working her magic now, maybe minimal scarring." 

He leans against the wall, his hands in front of him, clasping almost nervously. I can’t get over the fact that he’s still in at least half his tux, the sleeves rolled, after sewing that kid’s—Tommy. His name is Tommy—arm back together. 

“Well, kids, I think it’s time we bounce,” Mouse says, grabbing his jacket from Doris as she walks by. She doesn’t even look up from the handheld she tapped on. “Dr. Harlowe-Moore, it has been a pleasure.”

He gives me a wink and a quick salute. 

“See you on Monday,” Kate says, before stepping around me and dropping a kiss on Crockett’s cheek. Without missing a beat, Mouse does the same. 

He blushes a bit, and whispers something to Kate. I can't quite tell what it is, but I know it's in Pashto. 

He smiles at her, and leans his head on Mouse's shoulder for a second.

“Later, Major,” Mouse whispers, and although I’m sure I am not supposed to hear the second part, he whispers, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

And with that, with her coat on her arm, and his uniform jacket over one shoulder and his arm around her, they leave the ED, much better and different than when they arrived.

And then I’m with Crockett. Alone, once more.

"You're still here," he says softly, still leaning on the wall.

“Never planned on leaving,” I say. 

He looks up at me, and he looks tired but happy. 

"I don't have your phone number," he teases, pushing off the wall and coming closer.

“You should definitely, definitely get it,” I say, giving him a smirk. “After what you did down here? Following a ghastly fundraiser? You’re practically a superhero.”

"Oh, I'll get your number, I'll get there," he agrees. "But, Raelynn…"

There’s such hesitation in his voice. “Something tells me I’m not going to like your next sentence, Crockett.”

"You might," he smiles crookedly. "I feel like if I don't kiss you right now, I'll regret it forever."

I take a step towards, him giving him my best stern professor face. “Do you think that’s wise, being your place of employment, in front of your superiors and those you supervise, showing that kind of vulnerability--”

His eyes go wide, and he almost giggles as he slips a hand behind my neck and dipping down to catch my lips in his. I take his collar in both hands, making sure he doesn’t draw away from me too early. It’s an unfounded fear.

His other arm pulls me closer, and he hums into the kiss. I only pull away when I hear whistling coming from the nurse’s station. I don’t look, I just rest my forehead against his, giggling. 

He sighs happily, and then reaches an accusatory finger towards the source of the whistling. "Doris, do not. You saw nothing. Do not. If Maggie finds out from someone who is not me, I can never show my face in this ED again."

She just giggles, and he turns back to me, his hand coming up to my cheek. 

"Why, Dr. Harlowe-Moore," he drawls deliciously. "You seem to have caught me at a good time."

“Why, Dr. Marcel, I think you showed up at the perfect time.”


	27. What If I Told You the World Wouldn't End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley makes a quick decision after the events of the gala to visit Tommy, and both make a few realizations upon her arrival: Kelley, and the interesting person she had found in Tommy, and Tommy, a person who wouldn't walk away in Kelley. When Crockett rides along on Ambo 61, he makes his own realizations about Kelley: both about her relationship with Tommy and her place on the House 51 team.

_ If you started showing what's under your skin _

**February 16, 2020  
** **1132 Hours  
** **2230 S Kedzie Ave # 2FFB, Little Village, Chicago  
** **Kelley**

I…

I'm at his apartment, and I'm suddenly scared. Maybe I should turn around. This whole relationship thing is still new enough I'm not sure. 

My hand knocks before I know what I'm doing. Traitor. 

"Okay, I have the bag, I have… I have…" I mutter as I wait, and I knock again even though I shouldn't. 

Ease back, Kelley. Ease up a bit.

There’s a voice that sounds far away inside. 

“Hang on, I’m comin’,” he seems to mutter. He runs through the series of locks. 

I still have time to run. Maybe….

No, no. I’m here. Stay here, Kelley.

It’s worth the worry and fear when he finally kicks open the door. He still doesn’t look that well, he’s still…. well, paler than normal, and his chomped arm hangs in a sling. 

But his _ face _. He lights up like the Fourth of July. 

“Kelley!” He finally stutters out, fumbling with the storm door. I hear barking from upstairs. “Kelley, what… what are you doing here?”

"I wanted to see you," I say, and I gently touch his cheek before I really know what I'm doing. 

Really, Kelley?

"How are you feeling?"

“Been better, been worse,” he says. He leans into my hand. It’s so… pure, it makes my heart jump. “Do you… do you have time? Do you want to come up?”

"If that's okay," I say, and I feel a bit overwhelmed with how much I just want to bundle him up and cuddle him. 

He's way too sweet and cute for his own good.

“Yeah!” He almost trips over his feet, getting out of the way so I can come inside. “Please! I… it’s a little messy, if that’s okay. And I have a dog. Just. Just so you know. If that’s okay.”

"You have a dog?" I can't help the excitement, I'm a simple girl. I like a guy with a dog. I don't actually know if my internal monologue is staying internal anymore, and I suddenly don't mind. 

It’s still unclear because all he does is giggle, leading me upstairs. “He’s old. He’s very old. His name is Topolino! He’ll love you, c’mon.”

He opens the door to his second floor apartment and it’s nothing what I expect. First off, it’s _ clean _. Nearly pristine. Knowing at least a fraction of what goes on in his head, it doesn’t seem like he would be capable of such cleanliness. Even the wood floors are spotless. 

He leads me through the kitchen and to the living room, where the walls are painted a rich light blue. 

“Sorry, I was working on some… some stuff,” he says, piling up a bunch of books on his coffee table: almost all of them are historical accounts of events from Chicago. The fire. The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Better tell Kate about that one. Even Casimir Pulaski…

He awkwardly takes them one handed to the tall bookcase on the other end of the room, and then I see it—if it weren’t Tommy, and if I didn’t know how his brain worked, at least at a surface level, I would be worried—he’s hung on the wall a massive piece of brown butcher paper, and in the middle right, it’s a map of Chicago. Near Navy Pier and the Magnificent Mile, they’re detailed to the point of alleyways and one ways, but as it goes out, the lines become more and more sporadic. 

Wait. He’s _ drawing _ it. 

From the outside, this place didn’t look like much. But the inside? It’s a work of art.

Oh. _ Oh _.

"Tommy, I… this is amazing." I'm gazing around, and I finally look back to him.

“Huh? What? This?” He points at the stack of books. “I’m just really interested in Chicago.”

I smile before I step closer. "Your apartment, honey. You."

“Me?” He scratches his head, scrunches his face up. “Nah. I’m nothin’ special.” And then he gasps. “You wanna meet my dog?”

I'll reinforce how special he is later, but he mentioned his _ dog. _ "Yes!! Pupper!" I start bouncing, and I can't help it. I'm a child.

“Topo! Where are you, buddy?”

There’s a short almost sneeze from what I think is a bedroom, and the oldest dog I’ve ever seen waddles out. He looks… Shepherd adjacent, definitely a mutt, where the brown had started to turn grey. 

He comes up to the couch, lays down on the arm, and looks up at me, expectantly. 

Oh I'm in love with him. 

"Hey, buddy," I coo, scratching his ears. "You're a beautiful boy, I love you, you're my new favourite, Tuesday can go live with Mouch, you're beautiful." I look up to Tommy. "What's his name?"

“Topolino,” he says. “Found him on the street my first year on the job. He was old then, and he’s even older now, aren’t you, buddy?” He sits down on the couch next to him, and the dog lays his head down in Tommy’s lap. Tommy just scratches under his chin, and he lets out a contented sigh. 

I do love watching a man with his dog. 

_ Kel-ley _, focus!

"He's beautiful," I whisper, and I'm not sure why my cheeks are warm. 

"Oh, Tommy," I remember. "I brought… I brought you, um," I reach up and flick myself in the head. "I brought snacks. And a hot pack. That you can use as a cold pack. Why can I not talk?"

“I would love snacks!” He says. “And…. well, you… is a hot pack or cold pack better? I never know. Hey, you looked really nice last night. I’m sorry I had to work. I mean, you always look nice. That color was really pretty though. What do you mean you can’t talk?”

"Ice for the first 48, heat after that," I say, and I'm stuck. "I looked… nice?" 

He heads to his fridge, opens his freezer and starts trying to move things around. I assume he’s trying to make room for the ice pack, but he doesn’t seem to be doing well. 

“That dress,” he says, leaning on the fridge, the freezer still open. “It was really pretty. Wish I didn’t have to work. I…” he lets out an oof, a sigh, when the freezer door gently smacks the back of his head. 

"Honey, wait-" I set the bag down and pull the door open. "Let me." I start making room, but I gently touch the back of his head. "You good?"

“Oh, I’m good. You’re here!” He says, breaking into a grin. “Usually it’s just me and Topo. Hey… hey, Kelley?”

"Yeah, honey?" 

“What made you join the team?” He leans against the counter, and Topo lays down on top of his feet. 

I shrug. "Was still new in Chicago, and I needed some sort of stress relief. Kate said, 'hey try out' so I did." 

I smile fondly. Oh, Kate.

“Good. Good,” he whispers, leaning down to pet Topo. “I didn’t have a lot of friends still in Chicago,” he admits. “I’m glad you joined.” With a thump, he sits on the floor. Topo puts his head in Tommy’s lap. 

"Hey, hey," I say, sitting down beside him. "Are you okay?" I pull his head onto my shoulder. "You okay?" I repeat.

He sighs. For the first time since I’ve met him, I see a bit past the innocence. That facade. Topo grumbles a little and his tags jingle as he leaves. 

“Kelley, why do you keep talking to me?”

"Honey, what? Where's this coming from?" I stroke his cheek, lifting his head so I can look at him. "What's wrong, honey?"

“Look at you. You’re… you’re a firefighter, and you work with people at the hospital, and you go to galas and look like a princess and play hockey like you’re in the NHL and you’re… you’re smart, and beautiful, and such a badass. Seriously. You’re a badass. And you have a beautiful voice, and you’re just so nice and have so many friends.” He just waves his hand around. “This is what I’ve got. Never went to college. Wrangle animals all day. Get bit or hurt every month or so. There isn’t anything special about me. But there’s so many special things about you.”

"Tommy," I whisper, and I've started crying somewhere in there. "Tommy, you're so special. You're so sweet, you've always been sweet, and you're really cute, you know that? I've thought you're really attractive for a long time." I kiss his forehead gently, almost on his eyebrow. "Tom, honey, my friends consist of work, 'Kett, Mouse and Kate. And you. You're so high up the list, honey," I say, and I drop another kiss, on his cheek this time. "Guess what you have? You get me now. I'm not leaving. I decided that at New Year's… before that. You have me, baby." 

He touches a hand to my waist, and even without his other hand to guide me, I’m suddenly straddling him on his kitchen floor. When he looks up at me, I realize something. It hits. It hits hard. 

He looks at me like Mouse looks at Kate. 

And I'm okay with it.

I lean down, and I touch my lips to his. I don't want to hurt him. Somehow, I know I won't. 

I don't ever want to. 

His lips are soft, and they taste like hot chocolate. I can't help my smile. He chuckles, his laugh warm against my lips, his fingers brushing against my waist. 

When we break, just breaths apart, he seems to try to collect himself. 

“Have I…” he clears his throat and tries again, “have I tried to ask you out yet?”

"Not yet," I whisper, and I think I'm getting lost in his eyes.

“I think the… the socially acceptable first date is a nice dinner, but I’ve got a bit of a broken wing,” he chuckles, then his smile fades. “I don’t wanna wait that long, Kelley.”

"Then it's a good thing I don't give a damn about socially acceptable," I say lowly, and I kiss him again. "To hell with waiting for things, honey. I'm here, you're here, this is a date, right? Close enough."

“I like things simple,” he whispers. “That… that’s simple.” And then he grins, pointing to a side table in the living room. “I think I’ve got some candles in there.” 

I don't want to move, but I kiss him again, and then I get up. "Simple is good. I'm a simple girl, Thomas."

He struggles to get up, using the counter to pull himself to his feet. He starts to take a step, but wavers a little. 

I zip back over, and my hand lands on his chest as I steady him. "Calm down, buckaroo, I ain't leaving you," I tease.

“I don’t think any of the blood in my body anymore started as mine,” he grumbles. 

I giggle, but it's not funny. 

"I've been there, honey," I say softly. "How do you feel?"

“Like hell ‘til you came,” he whispers. 

I slowly start walking him to the couch. "Okay, that's… okay. How do you feel right now?"

“Little warm. Heartbeat’s a little fast. Can’t breathe,” he whispers. 

I test his forehead, he's a bit warm, and suddenly I'm scared.

"Baby, what's wrong? You in pain? When did it start, I shouldn't have gotten on your lap like that, honey, I'm sorry. When did it start?" 

“About the time you got on my lap,” he says, and then, “Oh.”

"Oh Tommy, I'm sorry," I say, and I'm worried. "Crockett's at home, I could call him, are you okay?" I lower him onto the couch, and I sit next to him. "Tommy, what can I do?"

“I know what’s wrong,” he says. And he slips his hand across my cheek again, and he kisses me. When he pulls away, he nods. 

“That’s what’s wrong,” he murmurs. “You make my heart all fluttery.” 

And when he says it, he starts laughing. Not a chuckle, not a giggle. It’s like he hears the words come out of his mouth, and it sounded so pure, so ridiculous, he makes himself laugh. 

I can't help but laugh, and I kiss him again, almost climbing back into his lap. "You beautiful man," I hum into his lips. 

“I’m yours if you’ll have me,” he says, stars in his eyes. I swear, I don’t know if he knows what he’s saying out loud half the time. Wait. Me neither. 

"Only if I can be yours, baby," I whisper. 

He scrunches his face up again, with a smile. 

“Hey. You already have my hat. That’s halfway there.”

I giggle softly. "My hat now, Rasmussen. I don't care if it's your name on the back and not mine." 

He opens his mouth to say something, then stops, shaking his head once. 

"What is it?" I ask, my hand playing gently with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Nah. It’s something…. my mom always told me, when she had a secret, or something I didn’t need to know quite yet, or something I wasn’t old enough to hear about.”

"Yeah? Honey, I wanna know, if you want to tell me," I whisper, leaning my forehead against his.

“She always told me…. ‘I’ll tell you tomorrow.’”

"I'll be here, baby. I'm stayin'."

* * *

_what if I told you the sky wouldn't fall?  
_ **February 18, 2020  
** **0842 Hours  
** **Firehouse 51  
** **Crockett**

Kelley's bounding ahead of me, as we walk up the driveway, and I can't help chuckling. 

She's a child, essentially. 

I mentally run through everything in my bag. Tylenol, clothes, everything. Should be fine. 

"Crockett!" She calls, and I shake my head, following her. 

I don't know why one of the bay doors is open in the middle of February, but whatever. 

"Kelley!" I snark back, but she ignores me. 

I get in the door, and I see her sprinting at Severide. Oh this won't end well. 

She drops her bag and runs full force at Severide. He glances at her, seemingly registers it, and just… goes back to his conversation with Cruz. 

When she launches onto him, I’m actually shocked at how fluidly he grabs onto her to support her once she’s on his back. 

He looks to me, nodding with a smile. “Hey, Doc.”

"Sev," I smile back. I don't know him well, but I still have great respect for Squad, even more so once I found out they'd been the ones to pull me out from the Gaffney explosion.

"Maverick, I'm bored," Kelley announces matter-of-factly.

“You literally just got here,” he says, his tone completely shifting to one of an older brother to a child. “Shift hasn’t even started.”

"Boooooreeeed," she hisses at him, playing with the ball cap on his head. 

I snort. Like I thought she'd be any different at the firehouse than at home.

“Anyone see Sylvie?” I ask as Kelley just finally steals Severide’s cap and puts it backwards on her own head.

"Uh, Brett's in the common room," Capp says, not even looking up.

I grab Kelley’s bag and head inside, thankful for the warmth. When I pass Chief Boden, he just gives me a nod, and as soon as I breach the common room, I’m hit with the smell of frying meats. The two boys Kelley seems to talk about the most— Ritter and Blake—seem to argue in the kitchen.

I stand there, watching the people around. I recognize most of them, some more than others. 

I can't help but feel both half at home, and yet out of place.

“Hey, Dr. Marcel, you ready for today?” 

Sylvie circumvents me, gives me a wide berth, as she comes up behind me. I resist the urge to jump, but she gives me a warm smile. 

"Hey, Brett, how's life?"

“Oh, you know, just pluggin’ away!” She says cheerfully. “You ready to hang out with us all day?”

I smile. "Yes, ma'am." 

“You never know where the day’s gonna go—“

There’s a crash as Kelley finally makes her entrance. Severide dumps her onto the couch next to Mouch.

"Case in point," I say dryly, gesturing to the tiny blonde hurricane. She gets up and kisses Mouch on the cheek. 

“She’s the instigator,” Sylvie whispers. “But we love her for it.”

I shake my head, holding back my smile. "Hey Sylv, I'll be right back,” I say as I catch sight of one of the Squad members.

“Joe Cruz,” I say, and he steps forward to shake my hand. 

“Marcel, buddy, how you doin’?”

"I'm alright, how about you?" Something about him always makes me feel a bit better about Kelley being a firefighter when he's around. 

“Livin’ the dream. You ridin’ with 61 today?”

"Yeah, I am," I say. I lay a hand on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Joe."

“What did I do?” He chuckles, but I see him glance at Kelley. “Hey, has she been okay lately? She’s been actin’ weird.”

I snort. "She's… she's fine. She's better. She's doin' better. Only problem is she's been hanging round this one kid on her hockey team, the one she danced with at the Gerwitz wedding."

He raises his head in realization. “So that’s why she was singing _ Once Upon a Dream _from Sleeping Beauty last shift.”

I groan. "What a child. She's a literal child, if you haven't noticed."

“Oh, we’ve noticed,” he says, widening his eyes. Kelley, having changed finally, pushes herself between him and I. 

"My ears are burning!" She chirps brightly. Too brightly. 

Cruz drops a kiss on her head. “Talkin’ shit about you.”

"No, you aren't," she points at him. "You love me too much to talk smack, and you-" she points at me, "your name is no longer first on the rental agreement!" 

I groan. "Stop that. You've been in that stupid coffee again."

“Remind me to yell at the Gerwitzes for that,” Cruz says. 

I turn to him. "That bad?"

“Yesterday, she and Gallo were trying to find the best way up to the roof. She made it halfway up before we had a call. I swear, it’s like she’s on speed.”

"Kelley!" I say, and I think I was a bit sharper than I intended. 

She freezes and turns around. "Cruz," she hisses through her teeth. 

“Busted,” he says, stepping back and giving me a look.

There's a noise, a buzzer almost, and then the entire house is in action in a heartbeat. 

I don't know what else to do, but I find Sylvie. 

"Okay, gotta tell me what to do, Sylv, because I'm your rookie."

Foster buzzes past, walking backwards down the hall. “You can take the front, I’ll stick in the back, Doc!” She calls. 

“What’ve we got?” I say—

“Five car pileup, an additional two-vehicle collision, and suspected chemical spill,” Sylvie says, sliding into the driver’s seat. 

I spy Kelley as we run.

She's jumping into her turnout gear, and she catches my eye. "Go get 'em, tiger!" She hollers across, and Herrmann yells at her to get her ass in the rig. She flashes me some sort of hand signal, and then she's gone. 

“Where we heading, Brett?” Foster calls from the back. 

“Ohio and Michigan,” Brett says. “Sixth pileup in five years.”

I nod. That's a sticky part of road, and people drive worse here than they did back home.

"So, what do I need to know? Any ground rules?"

“She’s in charge,” is all that Foster says. Sylvie gives me a grin.

I nod. "Yes, ma'am," I chuckle, and I can't help but look around the dashboard. This… well, I might be having a bit of a moment. 

"This is amazing," I say, almost bouncing in my seat, and I really don't care enough to stop.

“Lord, there’s two of them,” Foster mutters with a groan. 

"Hey, I'm usually already in the ED when you get there, now I get to see what happens beforehand," I retort. I run my fingers over the dashboard and sigh. 

“You ever been on a ride along before?” Foster asks.

"No, ma'am."

When Sylvie parks, she gives me a wide smile. 

“Learning on the fly, Dr. Marcel!”

And she’s out of the ambo.

I follow at a distance, watching as Foster and Sylvie start work. 

I'm not quite sure where I need to be, or what to do, and I slip my gloved hands in the pocket of my jacket as I watch.

There's a mess before me, cars intertwined and mashed together, and two more off to the side. One is flipped. 

I desperately want to jump in and help, but I hang back. I don't want to get in the way or do something that might come down on Sylvie and Foster's shoulders. 

“Crockett!” Sylvie yells back. I immediately straighten as she points to me. “Run triage!”

This? This I can do. 

I move to a clear area, pulling uninjured people standing around to help. 

I glance up as Captain Casey and Kidd bring over another victim between them, and I start to work. I'm immobilizing his arm when I hear yelling.

“Marcks! Do your thing!” Herrmann calls to her. And without missing a beat, she books it towards one of the cars. It’s a smaller car, a four door sedan, and she breaks out the back window, behind the driver. I can’t not watch her. She just grabs onto the top of the window, kicks out a few more shards, and easily slides into the back seat. 

"Lieutenant, I need a collar, and then I need someone with a gurney, is bus 85 here yet?" 

Herrmann passes her a C-collar. I can't quite hear his words over his radio, and as I finish with the victim in front of me, I take a second to watch. 

Kelley's doing something that I can't quite see, but I do see the flames starting to lick at the crumpled hood of the car. 

She needs to work fast if they're going to get out in time. 

And then she's half out of the car as two paramedics get ready with a gurney. Her and Herrmann are helping them get the woman out, and then I'm on my feet as the hood erupts in flames. 

"Get out of there, Marcks," I can hear my own muttering. "Get out of there."

The paramedics retreat with the gurney, and I'm wondering what the hell she's waiting for. 

And then she's launching herself out of the window, and she's shoving Herrmann to the asphalt as something explodes. 

"Lord, help her," I whisper, and then she's on her feet, pulling Herrmann up beside her. They're pulling back, and I feel myself breathe again. 

I see her look over her Lieutenant, and then starts looking around. 

As her eyes sweep over the scene, she catches sight of me, and says something to Herrmann. He nods and claps her on the back as she moves off to Truck, and he comes my way.

He comes closer, and shrugs out of his turnout coat. "Hey, kid, sorry to bother-"

I'm to work in an instant. "Got a piece of glass that must have hit like shrapnel," I mutter as I look it over. "Brett or Foster, I need a hand!" 

I look Herrmann in the eye, and I smile, and he does too. 

"She's tiny," he says, nodding towards Kelley, who's currently working with Truck to separate two vehicles. "Means she can get in places the rest of us couldn't. Sometimes I wonder how she survived the Academy." 

I chuckle as Sylvie comes closer. 

"She's a fighter, Kel is," I say, and he nods, watching her again. 

"Yeah," he says quietly. "She is."

I've always liked Chris Herrmann. Always will. 

He's the father Kelley lost. 

* * *

When we make it back to the firehouse, we're the first ones back. Foster heads straight for the snack pantry, and Sylvie for the kitchen. 

I clear my throat, and Sylvie looks up at me. 

"Do… do you mind if I just…" I spin a finger around. "Wander?"

Foster pokes her head out of the pantry. “Yeah! Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

I smirk as I spin on my heel to look around. "Gracias, señorita Foster, eres muy amable!" 

I laugh as I head down the hall.

“I have no idea what you’re saying, but cool!” Foster yells.

I pass a wall, with frames. I swallow, and I walk past. I'll stop when I come back this way.

There's bunk rooms, and a maze of lockers that takes me a shameful amount of time to find my way out of.

I even poke my head into Boden's office, and I duck out just as fast. He's intimidating even when he's not there. 

Still, he's got _ nothing _ on Sharon Goodwin. 

There's a storage closet, and I chuckle, and I remember when Kelley told me about the time her, Foster, Kidd, and Sylvie tried to turn it into a women's lounge. 

I've pretty much exhausted the house, so, I turn back. 

I reach the hallway again, and I take a minute. Somehow, the memory of that fear has never really left. It fades, sure, but it's never really gone away.

I take a breath and let my eyes wander over the frames. 

There's a few that stand out, names I remember hearing about, like Andrew Darden and a Leslie Shay. 

And then I see the one that, really, if I'm being honest, which is something I usually am not with myself, I see the one I came to see. 

I didn't know Brian Zvonecek well, he was always more Kelley's friend than mine. 

But I'm hit with this overwhelming wistfulness for a second. I wish I _ had _ known him better. 

And I almost feel, just for one instant, I almost do. 

And the gratitude. 

I look around- there's no one nearby- and I gently reach forward, touching the frame. 

"I'm not sure if you can hear me, man, but if you can? Just know how much I appreciate all you've done for her. And... and me," I say softly. It feels raw in my throat, the hazy fever memory. "You're a good man, Brian."

I step back, and I have to clear my throat. 

I can hear the rigs pulling in, and I blink, my eyes burning as I take a moment to regroup. 

I head back towards the common room, and I meet Sylvie's eyes.

“Hey, Dr. Marcel, you okay?” She says. She looks a little guilty when I catch her with her hand in a box of Froot Loops. 

"Yeah, I'm great," I say, holding my hand out for the box, and I raise my eyebrow for effect. 

She holds it out to me, and then looks warily towards the door. “Quick. They’re Capp’s.”

I take a handful, then pass it back, shooting her a wink. "Better hide."

“Oh, nooo,” She says, taking another handful and quickly boxing it back up before the others wander in. Mouch, first one in, heads right for the couch. Kelley’s not far behind, using Gallo as her personal chauffeur. 

I snort. "Kelley, get off the poor boy."

"Nope, he's my horsey," she says, and I'm… both wondering how she can keep a straight face, and how she's actually a grown woman acting like a child in a damn firehouse. 

The worst part? All of them act like it’s completely normal. 

Gallo drops her onto the counter, completely ignoring all the open seats, and goes back to making breakfast. It’s more like brunch now, but they all go back to their positions, barely missing a beat.

She smiles at me, making grabby hands. 

I give her a dramatic sigh, but I hug her anyway. "Well done on that call," I whisper. "Never seen you on the job before."

She hums, and flicks my ear. "I had an audience, so I had to behave." 

"Thank you," I mutter, and I'm not quite sure if I mean it sarcastically or not. After a beat, I gently tickle her neck and she pulls back with a hiss. 

"Get lost, Marcel."

"Never," I say. "Kel, where's Herrmann?" 

She jerks her thumb towards the rig bay the same moment she starts trying to chirp Gallo. 

To his credit, he just laughs at her. 

“Dr. Marcel, he’s still in the rig bay,” Ritter says, giving me a knowing smile. Kelley just rolls her eyes. 

“Stop sucking up to him,” Kelley snaps. 

“I was being nice!” Ritter says. 

I bow, as low as I can go without feeling the effects, and when I come back up I smile at Ritter. "Thank you, goodest sir."

Kelley just groans. "Dar-ren! He's going to be insufferable for a week!"

“You’re insufferable _ always _ and we deal with you!” Gallo says, wielding a spatula. 

"I'm different," she reasons, stealing the spatula and whacking him with it.

Hm. Yep. No different from home.

“How?” Gallo says, wrestling to get it back. “How are you different? Hmm?”

"Because I'm me," she says, and I just shake my head. 

"You're doing the Kelley Logic thing again," Capp yells from the table. "Makes my head hurt. Too early. Not enough coffee. Stop it."

“It’s cyclical, don’t make sense, right?” Gallo responds, and Capp just nods like he’s preaching. 

I just laugh and turn away. 

Gotta see a man about a neck. Yeah… I might need some more coffee, if I can't string words together.

He's leaning on the rig, and I think he's resetting his turnout gear.

"Herrmann!" I call, and he looks up with a smile. 

"Hey, Marcel," he grins. "Hey, thanks for the assist earlier. Swung by Med, got it cleaned. I appreciate the help." 

"Always, man, I'm happy to," I say, eyeing the bandage. "All good?" 

"Yeah," he nods. "All's great that ends fine."

He shoulder bumps me, and I gently bump his back. 

Yeah, I've always liked Chris Herrmann. 

Always have, always will. 

He cringes when he hears hooting and yelling coming from the common room. 

"I hate that," he grumbles, and he shakes his head. "I always feel the need to go full father instincts. I don't even want to know this time."

All the same, he grasps my sleeve and tugs me into the common room.

He lets go and makes for the coffee pot, and I'm suddenly greeted by the sight of Kelley (still on the counter) wiggling. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except she looking like someone just kissed her. 

"-and then he said I was pretty, and yeah it was the third time but who's counting? And like the dumbass I am, what do I say back? 'You're pretty, too.'" 

"What else happened?" Ritter is asking, and I'm trying to wrap my head around… well, any of it.

She raps his hand with a spoon she'd picked up somewhere. "Nope, I don't kiss and tell."

Gallo continues pouring pancake batter onto the griddle, but he’s entranced. “You can’t stop there. This is literally my day now. Seriously, Kelley, please.”

She shrugs. "I kissed him? A lot? He kissed me? We snuggled on the couch with his dog, and I might've just kissed him silly, but-" 

She's still talking but I've stopped listening. 

This… way more than I need to know. I beeline to the coffee pot and down a cup. 

Herrmann just grimaces. "So. Animal control kid?" 

I nod, on my second cup. 

"Great," he mutters. "Need to go find him and have a chat with him. Good practice for when Annabelle starts getting ideas."

I nod, and this? I did not need to know about this. Hey, I just know she went over to check on him. I had a suspicion when she just stayed there and didn't get home until one a.m., but still. A suspicion said and a suspicion confirmed are two wildly different things. 

Kelley's beaming, and she's talking about the boy's cuteness level, and I swear I can feel my blood pressure rising. 

"And he just kissed me! On the nose! I didn't expect it and I just bluescreened!" She's almost screeching.

“I’m not entirely sure this guy is real,” Gallo says. “Pancakes are up!” he yells, but goes back to conspiratorially speaking with Kelley. “I want to make sure you’re not getting catfished.”

She tilts her head and glares at him. 

"He's real! He's completely real! He's the sweetest guy I've met besides you all schmucks," she says heatedly, waving at the team.

“Is she dragging us, or complimenting us?” Ritter says, trying to figure it out. 

“Little bit of both,” Gallo says.

"Always assume both," I call. 

“I think we need a night out with this guy,” Ritter says. Gallo glances at him, and starts empathically nodding. 

“Yeah. Figure him out. See what makes him tick. Figure out his dark secrets.” Gallo bites into a pancake he’s just holding in his hand.

Kelley looks almost scared. 

"Don't scare him!" she smacks the back of Gallo's head with a hand, and tries to do the same to Ritter. Ritter just steps out of her wingspan, but Gallo nearly drops his pancake. 

“We’re not gonna scare him!” Ritter says, holding up his hand to potentially retaliate.

“Maybe a little,” Gallo mutters. This time, he holds up his spatula in defense against Kelley.

She reaches out and smacks the spatula, crowing in delight when it swings back and hits him. 

"Well," she seems to think. "Just don't scare him. But by all means. Go out and hang out with him. God knows the boy needs friends like you," she smiles at the two of them.

Ritter finally retrieves his own plate of pancakes, dousing it in syrup. “So, is he like, your boyfriend now?”

She takes a beat, then nods. "Yeah, I think so."

I almost dump my coffee, and Herrmann grabs my arm, grasping for a hold. 

"God, no," he mutters. "Nope. Oh, Lord, give me patience and strength."

I set my coffee down and I just sigh. "Well, shit."


	28. We'll Go Up in the Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kelley winds down shift on a Friday afternoon, she spies a colleague in need. Dr. Lanik needs her help, and it involves two vastly different children: Mel and Jessie. With Jim headed to East Mercy with his sick wife, Beth, Kelley—with the help of Crockett—step in to make sure the Laniks get through the night, long enough to get breakfast… and second breakfast.

** _ We'll Go Up, Up, Up _ **

**February 21, 2020** **  
** **1636 Hours** **  
** **Chicago Gaffney Medical Center** **  
** **Kelley**

I head into the staff room, trying to remember what the locker combination is. Third lock this month because I can't remember for shit. At this point, Ms. Goodwin is making me pay for them, so I need to try and remember it. 163…. Something. There's a fourth number. I'll get it the second I get there.

Lanik is already there when I get to the wall of lockers. 

He always looks serious, but this? He's glaring at his phone, and that's the second time he's dialed and hung up within the twenty seconds I've been here.

"Lanik? You good?" 

I sort of feel bad, because he jumps at my voice. 

"Hey, Kelley," he says, still messing with his phone. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." 

"Hey, James, stop for a sec," I say, and I gently shove his shoulder so he's facing me. "Something wrong?" 

"It's Beth," he mutters. "She's coming down with something, and I think I need to get her to East Mercy, but I can't find anyone to watch the kids." 

"I can," I say almost instantly. 

"Would you?" He says, and his face is suddenly so relieved, his eyes are almost watering. 

"Yeah of course," I say, finally remembering the final number, and I pull out my coat and bag. I gently lean my head on the back of his arm. "I can get 'Kett to drive me over, he's on the way now."

"I have the car," he says absently. "I can bring you back with me and drop you at mine."

"If that's good, then sure," I say. "Lead the way, Jim, I'll follow." 

I manage to text Crockett as I follow Lanik out the door, and the ride is mostly silent. 

He's scared, and I don't blame him. 

Not a lot of people at Gaffney know much about his family. I'm just honoured to be one of the few. 

He's tapping his fingers on the wheel, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. 

We're pulling in the driveway and he's almost out before he shuts the car off, and I grab his bag and mine from the backseat as he bounds up the walkway. 

He's inside within seconds, and I follow, a bit slower. 

I can hear him in the living room. 

"Beth? Babe, where are you?"

I hear a loud cry of ‘daddy’, and then a slightly older voice— “we’re in the bathroom, dad.”

He's almost running, and I follow. 

He stops at the door, almost skidding past before he catches the frame. 

"Hey," he says breathlessly. Beth leans against the bathtub, her hands supporting her on either side. Mel lingers by the sink, the phone still in her hand, looking worried, but increasingly better now that Lanik was home. Jessie, on the other hand, has resorted to pacing in the hallway, both completely aware of what was going on and blissfully unaware.

I take his place at the door as he drops down in front of Beth. 

"Hey, honey," he says, and though his voice is calm, his face is not. His hand comes up to her face, as he settles on his knees. 

I gently take the phone from Mel's hand, and wrap an arm around her. 

Lanik is worried, and it's an almost palpable feeling, and he's still cradling her face. 

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks gently.

“I told Mel I was fine,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “But she knows all the symptoms, so she took my phone and called you.”

Mel straightens next to me. “It’s not my fault she never changes the code.”

I can see a nervous smile on his face before it drops. 

"How's the pain?" He asks.

Beth looks past him, to me, to the girls. I can hear her drop her voice low. “It’s bad today. I’ve got a fever, chills. I would have been fine until you got home if Mel didn’t tattle on me.”

"Hey, hey, babe no, Mel did the right thing," he says loud enough for her to hear. He drops his voice a bit. "We talked about this, Beth, we can't wait around with this sort of thing." 

“I know I did,” Mel admits to me, pushing her glasses up on her nose. “Dad told me to do it, and he’s right, at least 85 percent of the time. That’s mom’s number, not mine.” 

I smile at her. "Hey Mel, can you go play with Jessie for a second? I'll be right out, I just want to talk to your mom and dad for a second, okay?"

“Alright, but I want to know what’s happening when you’re done, okay?” She says, leaving my grip and taking her sister to the living room. 

I kneel down beside Lanik, and I take Beth's other hand, rubbing circles with my thumb. 

"Beth, I need to take you in," he says, his voice his normal level but unlike in the ED where he's direct, abrupt, sometimes almost abrasive, he's suddenly unsure, almost scared. 

“Jimmy, please,” she says. “I’m fine. It’s just a fever.” 

"Baby, please," he pleads. "You promised me, no playing around, we deal with things as they happen. What if this is something bigger?" 

He's rubbing her cheek with his thumb, and it's such a change from the way he acts at work, it takes me aback. But Beth seems to start to see reason, it seems, when her eyes dart from him to me and back.

“You brought Kelley so we could go, didn’t you?”

"I did," he confirms, and his voice cracks, just the tiniest bit.

She sighs, almost defeated. “Fine. Fine, I’ll go.”

He nods, leaning forward to rest his lips on her forehead for a moment. 

"Stay put with Kelley for a second, I'm going to grab your overnight bag," he says quietly. 

“Please tell me he didn’t rope you into this,” she says, her soft voice almost a whisper. 

I can hear him, murmuring to himself in the room next to us, and I turn back to my friend. 

"I offered," I say quietly. "Beth, he's right. You don't have the strength to act flippantly about this, what if it is something more?" I don't like ganging up, but I'm worried about her. 

She looks past me, to the hall, and sighs. “I can’t help but thinking he’s already a single father. I can barely keep up, and be a mom, and go through this…”

Oh God please, you can't take her. I'm warning you now. 

"Don't do that," I whisper. "Don't think like that, Bethie. Just focus on beating this, okay? You and Jim go, I've got the girls."

She smiles. “You might be the only one he trusts to do this, you know.”

I smile, but damn doesn't that knife twist in my heart.

Jim comes back, and he's slung the bag across his back. "Are you ready, baby?" He asks quietly.

“As ready as I’m gonna be,” she says, starting to get to her feet. 

I support her, and then he steps in, an arm gently under her knees as he lifts her in his arms, bridal style.

I can't help but think that she seems way too light. 

"You've got the girls, then, Kel?" He asks softly, and I nod. His eyes are glistening, and I gently kiss Beth's cheek, and squeeze his shoulder. 

"Go," I say. "Call me when you know."

He nods, and I lock eyes with Beth. 

_ It'll be okay, _I try to say with my eyes. A hand slips into mine, though. The sweet, innocent eyes of Jessie meet mine.

I look down, and I smile at her, and I get to my knees. 

"Hey, Jessie."

“Is mom going to be okay?”

"Your dad's gonna make sure of that," I say, and Lord, I pray it's true. I brush back her hair, and I'm reminded again how sweet she is.

“Mel says stat-stitically, she’ll be okay,” she says, fumbling over the word. 

I chuckle. "Mel's a smart girl," I say as I pick up the tiny child. "Let's go see her." I make it into the living room, this tiny sweet kid in my arms, and oh man, she's getting big. And heavier.

“Mel got out Mouse Trap, but kept using the parts to build different machines,” Jessie seems to tattle. Mel puts the silver marble into the top bucket of the stairs and watches as her contraption goes off. 

"Hey, who knows? Sometimes some rule-breaking is allowed. Don't tell your parents I said that," I say, putting a finger over my lips. 

“If you don’t like it, Jessie, we could play Monopoly instead,” Mel says precociously. 

Jessie lets out a ‘yuck’ sound. “You always win!”

I laugh. "Maybe not Monopoly," I say, twirling Jessie under my arm. She takes it as an invitation, twirls again, and then angles to crawl up onto my back. 

I let her, and I shift so I can pull her arms around my neck so she doesn't slip off. "Ready?" I straighten up, bouncing her around a bit. Mel seems content enough to continue her dark machinations through Mouse Trap, and Jessie takes me for a ride around the living room, humming a song of her own creation. Without missing a beat, these kids acclimate to having me here, and I’m not sure if that’s speaking to my relationship with Jim or the hectic lives they’re facing right now.

Either way, by God, I love these two girls. 

"What do you two want for dinner?" I say, spinning around as Jessie squeals.

“Pizza!” Jessie immediately responds. 

“Yeah, that would be fine,” Mel nods, trying to figure out what went wrong on her latest project.

I chuckle. "Okay. Jess, I'm gonna let you down for a second so I can order the pizza, okay?"

“Daddy lets me on his shoulders when he’s on the phone,” she harrumphs. 

I giggle. "Well, I'm not your dad. I'm also smaller than him," I say, gently poking her leg. She slides down from me before I completely let her down, then joins her sister on the couch. 

“Can I poke it?” Jessie asks, watching as Mel resets her experiment. 

“Yeah, just wait though,” she says. Jessie watches intently as Mel checks over everything, and then nods. Jessie is in bliss, watching the marble conk its way through the path Mel has created.

I watch them for a moment, smiling. 

"What do you two want on the pizza?"

“All meat!” Jessie growls, itching to reset the monstrosity again. 

Mel nods, still in the middle of her pet project while trying to keep her little sister from destroying everything. 

I step out into the hallway, pulling up the number for Jet's Pizza. 

I order quickly, then hang up as I listen to the girls. 

Please God, let their mom be okay. 

I shoot a text off to Jim, and I know he can just check it whenever he has a moment. 

_ Getting food for the girls. Hope everything is okay. All my love. _

I slip my phone back in my pocket and take a breath.

“Kel-ley,” Jessie calls, running at my legs. “I’m thirsty.”

I swing her up, and I head for the fridge. "Got bored of your sister so soon?" I tease her gently.

“She was running more tests,” she says, making her signature ‘yuck’ sound. “I got booored.”

"Fair enough, kiddo, fair enough." I pour a glass of water and set her down.

“What kind of doctor _ are _ you?” She asks. 

"I'm not a doctor," I say, pulling out a chair. "I'm a… a manager, and I help keep people happy while they're in the hospital."

“Mel wants to be a doctor,” she says, bopping along to the song in her head. “I think I could make people happy.”

I poke her nose gently. "Yep, I think you could. And you do, kiddo!"

She scrunches her face. “You’re silly. Mel says we’re the same.”

I raise my eyebrow, and I try to keep a straight face. "Is that so?"

“You’re silly!” She giggles, jumping down from the chair. “I’m bored, Kelley!”

I laugh, and I dance around her. "Should we go check on Mel?"

When we head back into the living room, Mel is dutifully putting away the board game. 

“Mel! Mel Mel Mel Mel!” Jessie calls out. Mel just sighs, looking at me. 

“You see what I deal with?”

I give her a solemn nod and a wink. "Yes, ma'am."

“When’s the pizza getting here?” Mel starts to whine. 

I check my watch. "Should be any moment now, patience, young padawan."

Jessie just gasps. “Daddy loves _ Star Wars _! He said I could be Han for Halloween!”

“I want to be Queen Amidala,” Mel says, a regal look coming to her face. 

I giggle. "Your dad's a cultured man, and I respect him for it."

“Mom said she would be Leia, but only if dad would be Chewbacca.”

I nod, feigning deep thought. "She's a smart woman."

“Full mask and everything,” Mel confirms. 

I can't help the giggle. Somehow, I can't see the stern Dr. Lanik do it, but knowing Jim? He'd jump at the chance.

“Do you think when Halloween comes around, you could get some pictures to show me?” I ask, regaining my composure. 

“Only if you show everyone you know,” Mel says darkly. When I look at her, she gives me the biggest smile. 

I snort. "Your dad could have me fired if I show anyone at the hospital."

“You could get a new job,” Jessie says, crawling onto the couch. “You could make anyone happy anywhere!” 

I shrug, poking her nose again. "How about this? I won't show anyone except Maggie at the hospital, but I'll show my brother and the people at my other job," I say, laughing.

Jessie launches off the couch and back into me. “What’s your other job? You can have _ more than one?” _

I sigh. Cat's out of the bag now. 

"I'm a firefighter."

Mel looks suddenly interested, while Jessie is… enamored. 

“You _ fight fires?! _”

I nod, and as if to prove my point, I pick Jessie up and toss her over my shoulder, spinning her around.

"Yes, little miss, I do."

“Tell me everything!” She squeals. 

"Like what?" I drop her on the couch, and I stand there in front of them. "I fight fires, I help people, I climb ladders, hmm…. What else?"

“Do you save cats from trees?” Jessie gasps. 

"Sometimes I do! Usually I help my… our animal control officers with that, though."

“What’s your craziest thing you did?” Jessie asks excitedly. Mel watches patiently. 

I pause to think. "There's a lot." I tap the side of my head. "I have a lot of bad ideas, and I'm not the smartest bulb in the box."

“I wanna know!” Jessie screeches. 

I sigh, but I smile. "Well, I once was helping a woman stuck in a burning building, and my partner had fallen when the stairs collapsed. I got the woman out the window to the ladder, and I went after my partner, and I hung by my knees upside down while I pulled him up, how's that?"

“Wooooow,” Jessie says, trying to hang off me. “Who’s your partner?”

"I have a team, and we partner up each call. I could work with my friend Blake one call, and then my Lieutenant the next," I explain.

“Who’s Blake?”

"He's another firefighter, and he's like another older brother to me. He's silly too," I say, picking Jessie up and swinging her around.

“You said you had a brother, though?” Mel says. She adjusts her glasses again, peering into my soul. 

"Yeah, I do," I hum, flipping Jessie over my back and back onto the couch, smiling at her squeals. "He works with your dad too."

“Who?” Mel asks.

"His name's Dr. Marcel. Well, I call him Crockett," I say, and I briefly wonder if I should call him once the girls are in bed. I shake my head back out, smiling at Mel.

“Crockett’s a weird name,” Jessie comments. 

I snort. "You get used to it after a while. He's a good man. A good brother."

“What’s his specialty?” Mel asks. 

"He's a surgeon, but he also works in the emergency department with your dad."

“I bet he has cool stories,” Jessie says under her breath, almost mad. 

I shrug. "He has some pretty cool ones, and a lot of not so cool ones. It's a hard job."

“Sometimes dad comes home frustrated,” Mel confirms. God, what is her reading level at this point? I'm almost scared to think about that. 

"Yeah," I say. "The hospital can be rough sometimes." Oof. I need to bring the mood up. "I think I see the delivery man!"

Jessie just books to the front door. 

I follow, slower, pulling out my wallet. 

The money-pizza exchange is sweetened by Jessie hovering beside me as I shut the door. 

"All right, girls, food is here!"

Jessie just starts growling like a wild animal, while Mel goes to the kitchen for plates, rolling her eyes. 

"Jessie, Jess, calm down a tick," I say, popping the box open. She sits down, watching me as intently as the wild child can. 

I smile at Mel when she comes back. "Thanks, honey."

Jessie just waits, barely blinking, until I look at her. 

"Yes, wild one?"

She eyes the pizza, and then me again.

"Go ahead," I confirm, hiding a grin. Like a puppy waiting for the go to attack a treat, she digs into the pizza. Mel picks a particular piece and starts in, too. 

Lord, these kids. I love them.

I grab a piece too, and I check my phone as I eat. 

Three texts, two from Crockett and on from Jim. 

I check Jim's first. 

_ We're in a room, they admitted her, and we're waiting on a few tests. We'll definitely be here overnight. Kelley, I'm really sorry, can I ask you to stay? _

I respond quickly. _ Of course. The girls are just eating now, I've got them. I'm getting the third degree again. I'll get them to bed. Are you okay? _

I glance up to the girls, and they're still eating, so I switch to check the text from Crockett, and he's just hoping everything's okay, and offering to come help if I need it. 

I appreciate it, but he has a shift at noon tomorrow, I don't. 

Besides. I love these two. I'll gladly stay with them.

My phone buzzes again, and I glance down. 

_ Jim: I really appreciate this. We're okay, just the long waiting. She's sleeping right now. If things even out, would you maybe be able to bring the girls here in the morning? _

I type back almost immediately. _ Of course. _

I put my phone away and look back up to survey the two girls. Mel just slides a napkin over to Jessie. Jessie is halfway through her second piece. 

"How are we doin', girls?"

Jessie, mouth full, just gives me a thumbs up. Mel just looks a little sad. 

"What's up, Melly?" I say softly. 

“I don’t like when this happens,” she says. “I want mom to be better.” 

"C'mere, honey," I say, holding my arms open. "Your dad is taking care of her."

She crawls into my lap, and I think, in her quiet way, she finds comfort in that.

Jessie…. Jessie is oblivious to the moment, but seems content enough. In her own way. 

I hold Mel in my lap, and I rest my chin on her head as I watch Jessie. 

"What do you girls want to do now?" I ask after a moment or two. Mel just glances at the clock. 

“It’s almost bedtime,” she says. 

“Tattle tail,” Jessie says. 

I hide my smile. 

"Then you two should start getting ready, shouldn't you?" I hug Mel with one arm as I move the leftover pizza to one spot so I can put it away in a few minutes.

Jessie shoots off down the hallway, and once Mel extricates herself from my lap, I see her chuckle and smile, watching her little sister zoom.

"You okay, kiddo?" I ask softly.

She chuckles again. “She’s so weird.”

I smile. "Yeah. Well, good thing she's cute."

She grins and heads to her room to get ready for bed. 

I get up, and I move around the kitchen slowly, putting the food away, loading the dishwasher, and I finally stop, leaning on the counter. 

I hope everything's okay.

* * *

I’m woken up by a poke to my shoulder. 

“Kel-ley, why are you out here?”

I blink, and I'm met with a little girl. 

"Hey," I mutter, rubbing my eyes.

“Why did you sleep on the bench?” Jessie accuses.

"Wanted to be nearby if one of you needed something," I say, and I'm almost awake, so I sit up.

“You’re just like daddy,” Jessie says sleepily, heading towards the living room for what I assume are Saturday morning cartoons. 

I sit for a moment longer, then peek in on Mel. She’s still completely passed out, a book I’m fairly certain she shouldn’t have been reading so late. 

I duck into the bathroom long enough to splash some water on my face, and then wander back towards the living room. I chuckle at Jessie. She clutches her stuffed sloth still, yawning. 

“Kelley, come sit with meeee.”

I slip onto the couch next to her, and I can't help the small sigh.

And, in typical Jessie manner, she just pats my knee. 

"Yeah, honey?"

“Daddy likes you,” she says, yawning.

"Your dad's a good man, honey," I say, and my hand rubs circles on her back.

“He wouldn’t let just anyone stay.”

I choke up a bit.

"I'm glad he let me stay," I say quietly. 

And just like that, she hands me the remote. “You wanna pick somethin’?”

I chuckle. "Only if you can recommend something. I don't know what I'm looking for."

Mel wanders out. “Mom likes Scooby Doo,” she says. 

"So do I," I say, scooting so there's room for her.

“She says it’s ‘old school’.”

I smile. "It's classy."

I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. 

"Hey Melly, Jessie, I'll be right back, okay?"

“Got this,” Mel yawns again.

"Thanks, honey," I say, ducking out to the hall. 

I barely have to look to know it's Jim. 

"Hey, how are you two?" I ask quickly, and he sighs.

_"It's an infection, but we're working on it. She's feeling a bit better this morning than last night." _He sounds exhausted. _"How are the girls? How are you?" _

"We're all dandy," I say, glancing back into the living room and lowering my voice again. "How are you doing?" I ask quietly and I can almost hear his shrug.

_ "Just trying to make sure she's okay,"_ he whispers._ "She wants to see the girls, Kel, would you - God, I'm sorry I keep asking this - would you be able to bring them here?"_

"Jim, you don't even have to ask," I say. "When do you want us to be there?" 

_"Let the girls eat first, then come?"_ He sounds hopeful, and I know that even though I can't fix this whole situation, I can give him this. 

"I can do that. Give my love to Beth, we'll be there soon, okay?" 

_"Thank you, Kelley, thank you,"_ he says before hanging up. 

I head back into the living room, and there's a spring in my step.

“Kel-ley, can we have breakfast?” Jessie calls. 

"Yeah, of course! What would you two like? I'll try not to burn your kitchen down."

“Pancakes!” Jessie cries out. 

I gulp. Okay. Yep. Crockett and Kate have drilled me enough on these, should be fine. 

I start pulling things out in the kitchen, and I'm listening to the sounds of the TV and the girls in the next room. 

It's quiet. It's almost peaceful. Almost. 

"Do you two like things in the pancakes?" I call over the TV.

“Chocolate chips!” Jessie calls.

"Noted!" It takes me a while, and at least two burnt pancakes, but slowly there's a growing stack. "Come and get 'em!"

Jessie runs, and Mel joins her, a little slower. 

“Thanks, Kelley,” Mel says, giving me a tired smile. 

"Always, kiddo!" I smile at both of them, but this one is meant for her. 

I can only imagine what it's like being the older sister in this sort of life.

"Eat up, you two, and then we'll figure out plans for today," I say, moving the stack of pancakes to the table with the syrup.

Jessie douses her pancakes in syrup. Mel gives herself just the right amount. Typical. 

I eat slowly, and I can't help but watch them. They're so sweet, and I love them. 

I text Crockett. _ Hey, i know you have shift today, but can you drop me and the two junior Laniks at East Mercy? We can be ready in a half hour or so, I think. _

I get a quick _ 'call when I'm there' _in response, and I turn back to the two girls.

Jessie is already finished. Mel is about halfway done when they both look at me expectantly. 

"Okay, you two. I've heard from your dad."

“How’s mom?” Mel immediately asks. 

"She's a bit sick, but they're taking care of her. She's feeling a bit better than last night. She wants to see you two, and so does your dad," I say. "Do you two want to go?"

“Yeah! Yeah,” Jessie says, already on her feet. Mel nods. 

"Okay. Mel, you should finish up while I put the rest of the food away, okay?" 

I start cleaning up, and I smile at Jessie. "Go get dressed, kiddo. Your mom can't wait to see you."

Both make their exit, one much faster than the other, but regardless, they truly do make me smile.

I finally finish, and I decide to check on them. "How are you two doing?" I say, knocking on the door.

“She took my socks!” Jessie cries. When Mel opens the door, she raises her eyebrow at me.

“I did not.” 

"So those aren't Jessie's socks behind you?"

“Mine are orange. Hers are pink,” she says matter of factly. 

"Then where are _ your _socks, little bean?" I ask Jessie with a smile.

She blows her hair out of her face, pulling a pair from under her bed. “Sorry, Mel!”

I snort. "You're hyper. I'm starting to regret the amount of sugar I supplied you with."

“You can just turn us over to dad!” Jessie says, pulling on her shoes. 

I chuckle. "I might stick around for a bit, I'm not sure how much sleep your dad got."

“He’ll be fine,” Jessie says, waving her hand flippantly. “Let’s go.”

I hope he's fine. 

My phone buzzes. 

Crockett telling me he's here. 

"Alright, kiddos!" I clap my hands. "You two ready to go? Have a book or something to do?"

Mel holds up her backpack, while Jessie just bounds after her sister.

“I packed her some stuff,” Mel whispers conspiratorially. “She’ll thank me later.”

I grin. "Smart girl. Okay you two, remember when I told you about my brother?"

“The one with the weird name!” Jessie crows.

"That's the one. He's gonna drive us to see your mom, okay?" 

Mel just nods. She looks stoic again, as stoic as a ten year old could look, but she’s seen enough. And I have a feeling she protects Jessie from seeing too much.

I pick Jessie up, and I smooth back Mel's hair gently before reaching for her hand. She takes it without missing a beat. Jessie starts playing with my hair. 

"Let's go, girls," I say, leading them outside to the car. 

Crockett's leaning up against the car waiting, and he smiles at me, and tentatively waves at the girls.

“I know him!” Jessie says loudly. “He’s the one with the weird name?!”

He laughs then. "Hey, kiddo. Yeah, that's me." 

He gently pokes her nose, and opens the car door. 

Mel just chuckles a little. “I remember him. Dad talks about him sometimes,” she says to me.

"Does he?" Crockett says, overhearing, and he sends me a raised eyebrow. I shrug. 

"Well, your dad's a hel- heck of a man," he says. "He's a good man and a great doctor."

Mel shrugs. “He does his best,” she says, before getting in the car. 

I look in the car and… seriously? 

"I never even thought-" I say, the same instant he says, "I borrowed Kenny's car seat from Herrmann." 

I get Jessie in and I hug my brother. "You absolute angel."

He wraps his arms around me for a second before he lets go, and we get in the car. 

I try to turn around to see if the girls are buckled in. Mel looks at me expectantly, while Jessie just gives me another thumbs up.

“You don’t look anything alike,” Mel deadpans. 

Crockett snorts, looking at her in the rearview. 

I shrug. "He's adopted," I say, point at him.

"I'm adopted? You're the one from Canada!"

"And you're the one from NOLA!" I say back, and I shrug again. "Okay, we're both adopted. Besides. I've been in Chicago longer."

I wink at Mel. She leans over to Jessie. “NOLA means New Orleans, Louisiana.”

“Oh, that’s far. Is that why he sounds funny?” She tries to whisper, but it’s still loud. 

“I think so. I’ll find out,” Mel whispers back before saying full voice, “is that why you sound funny?”

"Don't do it, Marcel," I whisper, but he's grinning.

"Yeah, honey, that's why I sound like I'm talkin' funny," he says, and now he's gone full drawl. I just groan. "I'm from the south, an' we all talk funny down there," he says, taking his hand off the wheel for a moment to reach back for a high five.

Mel, for the first time since I came over, looks _ delighted. _She slaps his hand, and then, feeling left out, Jessie tries to reach for him and can’t quite make it. Instead, Mel smacks her hand and then Crockett’s with a “there”.

He glances at me with a smirk. "See?" He teases, and I roll my eyes. 

"How's you two girls?" He asks, glancing in the mirror again and merging onto the I-94. 

“Good,” Mel says at the same time as Jessie goes, “hmmm, I could eat.”

Out of the mouths of babes, I swear.

"You _ just _ ate breakfast!" I protest, turning around.

“But what about _ second _ breakfast?” Jessie says, looking smug. 

Crockett nods solemnly. "What would you like?" 

I smack his arm. "Crockett! Don't encourage her," but I'm giggling. 

Crockett looks back at her. "I don't think she knows about second breakfast, Jess."

She gasps, but she’s giggling through it. “But-but-” she tries to say something along the lines of ‘elevenses’, but can’t get it out, she’s giggling too much. 

I'm wondering what's happening. Clearly it's a 'thing', but I'm not sure what. Whatever. 

Crockett looks around. "What can I feed the young gremlin?" He asks the two girls in the backseat, ignoring me.

“Dooonuts,” Jessie growls. It sets Mel off again, snorting at her little sister.

Crockett just nods seriously. "That can be arranged. Do you have preferences?"

I don't know who he is anymore. He's turned into someone I don't know. He's an utter softie with kids, and wow.

“She doesn’t care,” Mel says, turning a page in the book she had gotten from her bag. “She’s trying to manipulate you for donuts.”

"It worked."

"It's working," I say at the same time as Crockett.

“That’s right!” Jessie says with a nod.

Crockett gets on the freeway exit, and I stare at him. "Kelley, there's a Dunkin' right 'round here, can you check right quick? I don't quite remember exactly where."

I can't believe him. But. It's not near within my power to resist the tiny Lanik in the backseat.

"On Archer, almost right off the exit," I say finally. 

"How's that?" He says, smiling at the little girl. "Dunkin' okay?" 

Jessie just starts bouncing. I snort. "Jessie, you're hyper. Mel, what do I do?"

Mel just glances up to the front seats, barely looking up from her book. 

“You started it.”

"I did?! No, Melly, that's all his fault," I say, pointing to Crockett as he pulls into a parking space.

“Could I have a frozen hot chocolate?” Mel asks quietly. 

"Yeah, 'course, kiddo," Crockett says softly. "Anythin' else you want?"

“Donuts!” Jessie crows, but Mel seems to quiet her sister. She doesn’t say anything, but she looks like she wants to.

"What is it, darlin'?" Crockett turns around in the seat to look at her, and his eyes are going soft.

“Well, mom really likes the chamomile tea,” she says, “And dad always gets coffee, too.”

He reaches out his hand, and he flips his palm up. "Do you know how they like it?" He asks, waiting for her hand. She tentatively puts her hand on his. 

“Mom likes sugar. A lot of sugar. Dad…” she squints. “Not sure.”

His hand closes gently around hers for a second, just holding it, and I'm struck for a second how large his hand is compared to hers. He's gentle, and his thumb swipes over the back of her hand. 

"You got it, darlin'. I know how your dad likes his coffee. I'll make sure I get it all, okay?" He says, giving her just the smallest smile.

And, in her way, Jessie leans forward and growls once more, this time, near her sister and Crockett’s hands, “dooooonuts”.

"Okay, a'right, ma belle, I'm goin'," he says, squeezing Mel's hand once before letting go. 

"I'll be right back, Kelley?" I hold up two fingers, and he nods. He knows my order by now. 

He gets out, and I turn to the two girls. 

"How's it going, you two?"

“I like him,” Mel says, settling back into her seat. Jessie watches him walk inside the building through her window.

I smile. I honestly haven't seen him with kids much. I like it. He turns into mush.

I stare out the windshield for a second. 

"What colour is your mom's favourite, girls?"

“Blue!” Jessie calls out, and then Mel and Jessie share a grimace. “Like daddy’s eyes!” They share together. Jessie lets out a ‘yuck’.

I smile. "I have an idea of something we can give her. When we get to the hospital, I'll show you, okay?" 

I remember seeing it the last time I'd stopped in to see Dr. Adams at East Mercy. 

There. There's a plan.

Crockett's suddenly back, and he's rapping on the window, his hands full. 

I reach over and pop the door, taking the two drink trays from his hands. He gets in with the bag, and sits for a moment. "Okay. I got enough for your mom and dad too. Do we want to open these now, or wait 'til we get there?" He asks.

“We can wait,” Mel says. Jessie opens her mouth to speak, and Mel glances at her, not sharply, but Jessie just nods once. 

“I have been told to wait,” Jessie says.

Crockett glances into the mirror, and he chuckles at Jessie, and smiles at Mel. 

He pulls onto the street again, and he's keyed, ready for the exit the second he can get on it. 

He glances to me. "Want me to come up? I got switched last minute to the night shift. I'll come if you want me to," he says quietly. 

“You should,” Mel says, finally putting her book away. “Dad likes you. He’ll like seeing you.”

He meets her eyes in the rearview, and he nods once. "Okay, darlin', I'll come."

“Good,” Mel harrumphs. Jessie just stares out the window. I wonder what’s going on in that head of hers. Well, maybe I don’t. 

Crockett circles the parking lot twice before he finds a spot. 

"Okay, girls, we ready?" He asks, and his voice is upbeat, but low at the same time. 

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Jessie says excitedly. 

He opens the door for the girls before coming around to open mine. 

"It's going to be okay," he whispers to me, and I nod. 

He goes back around, and then reaches out for Mel's hand, just waiting to see if she'll take it. She’s a lot less hesitant now when she takes it. 

He takes a drink tray in his free hand, and I take the other, holding my arms open for Jessie. 

"We'll head up to your mom and dad, but we're gonna stop in the gift shop first, okay?" I tell the girls, my eyes wide. "I know there's something there she'd love to get from you two."

Jessie just nods, looking at the donut bag, but I think she’s paying attention. Mel, this time, is the one who’s distracted, as she smiles up at the slightly oblivious Crockett. 

I smile. I think he's a hit with the girls.

We get inside, and I lead our little group into the gift shop. "Don't touch anything, okay Jess? Don't want to break anything." 

“Why am _ I _ always the one…” she mutters. 

“Because you are,” Mel retorts.

I look around, humming and then squealing a bit when I see it. 

It's two small stuffed bears joined at the hand, with little blue and white checked dresses and hats. As I survey the girls, I can't but think that the two bears look like the sisters. 

"How's this, girls?" I say, pointing it out to them.

“Mom likes bears,” Jessie says, nearly burrowing into my shoulder. 

“I like the idea,” Mel offers, still grasping to Crockett’s hand.

"But?" He prompts gently, looking down at the girl beside him. 

“Just want her to be home,” Mel says softly.

He slowly gets to his knees beside her, wrapping his arm around her. "I know, darlin', I know. We just gotta make sure she feels better first."

“I know,” she says, coming off much older than her years. “Still don’t like it.”

"I know, Mel," he whispers. "I know."

I pick the bears up gently. "Should I get it?" I ask them softly.

“Yes,” Mel says definitively, even though her eyes are a little misty. “What do you think, Jessie?”

“Like the bears,” she says, still holding onto me tightly. 

"Then we get the bears," I say, and I hold them out for Jessie to hold. "Gently, now," I say. 

Crockett gets to his feet slowly, and he brushes back the hair from Mel's face. "You ready, honey?" He says as I pay and we leave.

I pretend not to hear them.

“Jessie doesn’t like hospitals,” Mel tells Crockett. “I don’t either.”

"Then we're gonna stay right beside you," he says softly. "That okay?"

“Yes, please,” she says. She takes a half step closer to Crockett as they walk. 

I'm trying to remember where Jim told me to go in his text, and I fumble with my phone. 

"Hey," Crockett says. "Mel, can you hang onto my tray?" He's not letting go of her hand, I realize. At least, not until she takes the tray from his other hand, grasping it in both. 

He nods, like he's accomplished something, and he takes my phone, glancing at the room number. 

"This way," he points, gently ushering Mel down the hall. I follow with Jessie in my arms. 

"How you doing, little bean?" I whisper.

“Donuts,” she whispers, hiding her face in my shoulder again.

"Soon, bean, soon."

"Here." Crockett stops just before an open door. He looks to me, pausing. 

"Ready to see mom?" I ask the girls gently.

Mel nods. Jessie just hides.

I nod to Crockett, and he smiles back, encouraging. 

I step into the room with Jessie, and Crockett and Mel are right behind me. Jessie just barely pulls herself from my shoulder when we head in. Beth is still in bed, and Jim looks… less than good in the chair next to her. Mel reaches to hand the tray back to Crockett before she crawls into her dad’s lap. 

"Hey, baby," Jim whispers to Mel, and I gently bring Jessie closer, kneeling down so she's eye level with her parents.

Jessie looks at the both of them, then quietly says, “we brought donuts.” 

Jim looks at Beth before chuckling. "You did what now?" he asks as he holds out an arm for his younger daughter. 

She slips out of my arms and shoots into his, accepting his embrace and cuddling into him just like Mel did. He’s not going anywhere now, with both his daughters in his lap. 

I set the tray and bag in my hands down on the table, crossing to Beth's other side. "Hey, girl," I whisper. "How are you doing?"

“Been better,” she says, “but we’re still optimistic. Thanks for taking the girls. Were they… were they good?”

"They were great," I smile, glancing at them. "In fact, Jess, Mel, don't we have presents?"

Jessie just reaches for the bag of donuts. Mel’s the one searching for whoever had the bears.

At least these kids have priorities.

"Right here, kiddo," Crockett says, pointing to the larger bag. Mel goes for it, and sets it on the edge of Beth’s bed. Jessie grabs for the donuts and very deliberately finds her dad’s coffee, seemingly by smell alone, and goes to hand it to him. 

Jim just glances up to the two of us.

"The girls wanted to make sure they took care of you two." 

Crockett said the words I wanted to, but the lump in my throat wouldn't allow me to.

He steps behind Jim's chair, laying a hand gently on his shoulder, just resting it there. 

And Jim smiles. I gently hand Beth the tea. She mouths the words ‘thank you’, and turns back to the bag.

“What did you find…” she murmurs, pulling out the bears from the bag. She sighs, smiles, looks at her daughters.

“They’re even in blue!” She says with a wide smile. 

“‘Like daddy’s eyes!’” They mock, and Jim looks wide eyed in horror.

Crockett hides a snicker in his sleeve. 

"Really now?" He says lowly from from his place behind his colleague.

Beth just giggles, covering her mouth a little. “Oops. Sorry, Jimmy.”

“She’s not sorry,” stage-whispers Jessie, half a donut in her mouth.

Jim's horrified look fades, changing into adoration as he gazes at his wife and daughters. 

"Thank you, both of you," he says quietly. 

I smile at him. "Always, Jim. Anytime."

Crockett echoes me, squeezing Jim's shoulder.

"We'll be around, okay?" He says.

“Will you?” Mel asks, nursing her own frozen hot chocolate while sitting at the edge of Beth’s bed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Beth lets out a melodic laugh. “I’m sorry. She reads a lot. I mean… a lot. Did she actually sleep last night?”

Mel looks at me with wide eyes. 

"Yeah she did," I say. 

Crockett chuckles, looking directly at Mel. There's an odd flash of… something on his face that I can't figure out. And then it changes to resolve and a warm smile. A promise.

"We'll be around," he says again, and I echo him this time. As we head out of the hospital room, it seems Jessie finds her voice, still a little muffled from her second breakfast.

“Thanks for the donuts!”


	29. Don't watch the clock, I paid some dude to make it stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raelynn and Crockett go on their first official date, and the highs and lows lead them on an amusement park ride that, well, leads them to an amusement park. But even Navy Pier’s tall ship can’t stop them from having their first argument.

_ We're two birds of a feather (You're so hella good looking tonight) _

**February 24, 2020**   
**1856 Hours**   
**Trattoria No. 10, 10 Dearborn Street, Chicago**   
**Raelynn**

I do not know how to do this. How do normal people date? I haven’t been on a date in… well, about seven years, I reckon. But he said seven o’clock, at this address, and I pull my coat tighter around myself, almost pacing outside of the restaurant. 

I shouldn’t be surprised he called, but for some reason, I can’t help feeling shocked. I was afraid it would be another hit or miss. 

Maybe I was wrong.

He turns the corner, and he sees me, and suddenly he walks faster. 

"Dr. Harlowe-Moore! Sorry I'm late, I had to park down the street," he says. He smiles, almost bowing to me.

Dammit. Dammit, I wasn’t going to feel like this. But that tan suit… I almost can’t speak.

“If you intend on calling me Dr. Harlowe-Moore, I’m going to be forced to call you Dr. Marcel, and don’t you think we’re past that at this point?” I say, giving him a smile. 

He smiles, almost blushing. 

"Well, I suppose," he says. "A'right, Raelynn."

Ah, yes. There it is. I appreciate his smoothness, but when that slightly stuttery, awkward man comes through, and he lets it through… 

That’s what makes my heart flutter.

Might also be the drawl.

“Thank you, Crockett,” I say, slipping my hand across his arm.

He leans into it ever so slightly, smiling at me. "Shall… should we go in?"

“Absolutely,” I say, “Have you been here before? We… I only came to Chicago two months ago, so I have absolutely no context as to what is good or what isn’t in this town.”

He perks up. "I've been here a grand total of once. I tend to usually stay in the smaller places around my apartment. This is fancier than I normally do," and then he realizes he's rambling and closes his mouth quickly.

He opens the door to the restaurant, and I’m hit with the smell of Italian food. Oh, Lord, does it smell good. Focus, stay focused. I slip inside, and soon, we’re taken to a small table near the back of the restaurant. Crockett pulls out my seat, then helps me take off my coat. What a gentleman. To think, Kate’s told me so many ridiculous stories of this man. Maybe he’s different? Maybe he’s not. The jury is still out when I sit, and he takes the chair in the corner. Briefly, he surveys the restaurant from his back corner. He does a complete scan, and, seemingly happy, finally picks up the menu.

He looks up briefly, and he almost says something before he shakes his head, looking back to the menu. 

“Tell me, Crockett, what’s on your mind?” I say, eyeing him from over my menu.

He chews on his lip for a second before looking up again. "Thank you for coming," he finally says, almost too low for me to hear.

I let out a quick laugh, and he almost looks frightened. “Why wouldn’t I?” I say. “After your gala, I would be mental not to go out with you again.”

"Oh. Oh," he murmurs softly. "I would've- a'right then. The gala was a mess, right enough."

“I thought it went fairly well,” I say. “Kate told me you made over the intended goal. That is admirable, and hard to do. What makes you think the gala was a mess?”

He blanks for a second before he forces the smile back on his face. "No reason. Yes, we did make over our goal."

I notice his hesitation, but perhaps we don’t know each other well enough yet for me to ask. I’ll consider asking again sometime later. 

I’m already making plans with this man.

“So, Crockett, what would you suggest, having been here one more time than I have?”

He glances back to the menu before humming thoughtfully. 

"The lamb was good, it depends. What do you care for?"

“Considering all the places I’ve been, and then lived, I’m not even sure what my tastes are anymore,” I say. “To be quite honest, Crockett, one could say that I am up for anything.”

He smiles. “I was looking at the… the squid ink linguine,” he stifles a giggle. “Little too exotic for me. Maybe I’ll stick to the Spicy Sausage Ravioli.”

“I would have to say… the fettuccine sounds delicious. Sometimes the simplest is best, don’t you think?”

He nods, studying the menu, but his fingers are tapping the tabletop.

“Are you…. nervous, Crockett?” I giggle. 

He looks up, almost startled, before he removes his hand. “No, no, not at all, I just-- I --” he looks back down at the menu.

Saved by the waitress. She asks us about wine, and I wait patiently, looking to Crockett. He still looks a bit nervous, but shifts so he can pleasantly address her.

“I’ll have the  _ Il Baciale,  _ the Braida,” he says, also giving her his meal order. He looks to me, and I give him a slight nod, and he orders for me. A man who both asks permission and takes charge. A rare man, indeed. 

“I think the Tiganello?” he offers, and I nod, a bit more vigorously than I expect, because I’m distracted by the way his hands trace along the menu. 

He smiles at the waitress, giving her a pleasant nod once more. 

Once she’s gone, he traces the edge of the table with a finger, glancing around once more. 

His eyes land on me, and he gives me a shy smile.

“So, Dr. Marcel,” I say, drawing out his name a little longer than I probably should, “I think you owe me an explanation.”

He pales, but fights to keep the smile. “For… for what?”

“I am very interested to hear more about how your mother taught you Pashto. You see, it is rare on this side of the world, finding not one but two individuals who are fluent,” I explain. “I guess what I am saying is… how does a man from New Orleans become fluent in a language from half a world away?”

His frightened smile turns soft, and he draws a breath. 

“My mother was from Tehran, and Dad brought her here with him. He moved back to New Orleans, and she came with. She kept some of home with her. Taught me and… and my two brothers Pashto. I was always more interested in it than they were, and more often than not, that’s all I would speak with her.” He shakes his head out almost imperceptibly and drags his eyes back to mine where they had wandered to the table. He smiles again, and this time it’s wistful. Yes, that’s the word. Wistful.

“Crockett, that… that’s beautiful,” I say, leaning on my hand. “Do you still keep in touch with her?”

He looks down to his hands, shaking his head again. “No, ah, she… I lost her in 2003. She… yeah,” he says softly, running a finger over the face of his watch.

“Oh. I’m so sorry for bringing it up,” I whisper. Damn. Fucked it again. Bring yourself out of this one, dumbass. “You… you grew up in New Orleans, then?”

He doesn’t look up quite yet, but nods. “Born and raised, yeah,” he says, and he cracks a half-smile.

“We’re in the same boat, then, aren’t we? Our accents give away the fact we’re expatriates.”

He does glance up then. “Such long words, Dr. Harlowe-Moore. My simple Southern self can’t keep up,” he teases.

The waitress brings over our wine, and it gives me time to breathe through that drawl of his. I lift my glass for a toast. 

“To finding a place where Southern and British sensibilities can coalesce,” I say.

He smiles, holding up his own glass. “Fair enough, my dear,” he says, and he actually winks at me.

Ooo, I’m in trouble with this one. I clink my glass against his and take a longer drink than I probably should. 

He takes a sip, setting it down again. 

“So, Raelynn.”

“So, Crockett,” I mirror, trying to hide the fact that I feel the flush on my cheeks.

“Who are you?” he asks, resting his chin on his clasped hands, gazing at me. “What brings you to Chicago?”

“Who am I?” I vamp a little, leaning back into my chair. “Are you looking for a biography, or perhaps searching for the deeper meaning behind my arrival?”

“Come now, my girl,” he scoffs, a twinkle in his eye. “At the gala. Now. So well put together, yet so playful. You asked me why the hell I was still single, now it’s my turn. So. Raelynn. How the hell are you still single?” 

Well, well. A man not afraid to go for the throat, it seems. Oh, stop, get that thought out of your head, Raelynn, that’s just how you get into trouble. I open my mouth to speak, then shut it, then open it again. 

“I have a penchant for… long term travelling,” I say. “That is, I have a difficult time staying in one place for long. Therefore, my relationships tend to be of the…. Shorter variety.”

He nods, taking it in. “That’s… that’s fair. So, now the question with that in mind. Why Chicago?”

He seems almost nervous.

“I had been teaching at the University of Pennsylvania,” I say. This question is easy. These are facts, not opinions. “I was offered a better position here. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see Chicago.” That last statement wasn’t supposed to come out. What is it about these Chicagoans that make me want to spill my innermost truths? First Kate, now Crockett. 

This city is dangerous.

“Chicago is definitely a hell of a city,” he agrees, smiling a bit. “It’s colder than I’m used to, even after almost three years.”

“What brought you to the Windy City?” I ask, desperately trying to get the focus off me.

He smiles, but there’s almost a guarded look back in his eye. 

“Time for a change, I guess,” he says, taking another drink of his wine. Well, two can be evasive. 

“What made you want to become a trauma surgeon?” I ask.

He waves a hand around, and the guarded look is gone. “I grew up in New Orleans, darlin’, grew up in the worst neighborhood. If I can help? I’m damn well gonna help.”

“I know a little something about bad neighborhoods,” I say, almost under my breath.

“What do you mean?” He says curiously, leaning forwards.

“Contrary to popular belief, I did not grow up in the United Kingdom,” I say. “I’m the daughter of diplomats. We travelled to some interesting locales, some of them not as safe as my mother would have liked.”

He looks interested, almost enamored as he leans further forward, cheek on his hand. 

“May I ask where?”

“In no particular order, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, Lebanon, and the UAB,” I list. 

He smiles. “Is the countryside as beautiful as the photos?” he asks quietly.

“Something that always seems to surprise people…. It’s so…  _ green _ ,” I whisper. “There’s this common misconception that it’s all just… a dusty wasteland, but there are areas outside of Tehran that are just… the greenest fields you’ll ever see in your lifetime.”

He almost looks dreamy-eyed for a moment. “Mom always talked about how it used to be. You went there?”

“I lived there,” I correct. “From when I was eleven until about… fifteen, I think.”

He meets my eyes with a hazy smile. “What was your favorite thing about living there?”

It’s almost overwhelming, the thought of trying to narrow down the better part of my childhood into one place. Eventually, after letting it slip through the memory, I find it. 

“Si-e Tir Street,” I say. “I could start that National Museum, and just use it to find… anything. There was an evangelical church, and a synagogue. Cafes, fire temples! You never went hungry when you were on Si-e Tir Street. I would just walk all day… sit down, write. Take notes about the locals.” I sit back into my chair, making a realization. “I think that’s where I decided to study history.”

He watches me, and he reaches forward. He brushes a piece of hair from my face before he pulls his hand back, almost spooked.

I don’t know what Kate was thinking. Actually, the way his hand brushes against my cheek, I may think she does.

“How do you know Kate?” I ask, trying to break the heaviness in the air. 

"I…" he sighs, and he gently slaps the side of his head, seemingly resetting. "I met her through my sister, actually."

“Kelley,” I recall. “Kate says you all… adopted each other. Something about a ‘lack of parental guidance left you all differing levels of orphans’.” I try not to give away the desperate need I feel to be a part of that group. 

He nods, and he looks almost fond. "They're… we're family. That's a good way to put that. 'Differing levels of orphans'. Hm."

“Kate told me she met Kelley at a bar,” I offer, trying to break him from a seemingly dark train of thought. “Or a firehouse. I’m not quite sure. She rambles sometimes.”

He grins at me. "Both. Kelley works at House 51, and Kate knows them. She also frequents Molly's, and Kelley works there too." He takes another sip of wine, still smiling.

“How does one become friends with an entire firehouse?” I ask.

He seems to think. "Something about meeting them on a call where she helped out. She'd drop by to see them sometimes. And then she actually met my sister, and then eventually we all met."

“Kate? Helping out on a call?” I know vaguely her history, but I can’t imagine her just… well. Yes. I can imagine her stepping in to do the first responder job. I wonder why she never did. 

"Yeah, she has a penchant for helping lost souls," he chuckles, and he's fidgeting. 

“That makes you uncomfortable,” I find myself whispering. “Why?”

There's a war in his eyes, and he seems to make a wall. "She and I are a lot alike," he shrugs, reaching for his glass again, then putting it down mid-movement and glancing at his watch. He gently pushes the glass out of his sightline, turning back to me. 

“Lost souls,” I murmur. “Trauma surgeon. Veteran. Two sides of the same coin, I reckon. You both have seen your fair share, I think, but neither of you seem to want to share with me.”

"Time, Rae," he says absently. "Some wounds are still too fresh."

“Some take years to heal,” I say. “You’re lucky I’m patient.” 

He smiles once, one quick flash. "I'm stubborn," he offers. 

The food arrives, and he smiles and nods to the waitress. 

"Thank you," I hear him say to her gently.

“Oh my goodness, this looks amazing,” I can’t help but mutter. “Chicago…. this city does it right.”

He looks at me across the table, and he's giving me a look of… awe? 

“W-what?” I ask, breaking into a smile. I can’t help it. “Do I have sauce on my face or something?”

"No, no, darlin', just… just admirin' the view," he says softly.

I nearly snort, very unladylike; If my mother had seen, she would chide me for it. Well, never mind that. I haven’t spoken to her in eight years. 

“You, Crockett Marcel, confuse me,” I say. “One moment, you’re a stuttering mess. The next, you’re ordering my dinner and wine after essentially asking my permission, and then the next, I’m not sure you realize you say the sweetest things out loud.”

He laughs, and stares me in the eye as he lifts his glass, taking a drink, holding my gaze. 

"Well, I confuse myself. I'm always confused. But it's a good confusion when I have the privilege of company, especially with you." He shoots me another wink.

I’m half tempted to ask him if he wants to go back to my apartment, but that is decidedly unwise. That is how certain choices—mistakes and non-mistakes— are made. 

Instead, I take another bite of my dinner. 

"Listen, Raelynn," he says, glancing up at me every so often. "I know you're in history, but what's your focus?"

Ah. This is an easy one. “Middle Eastern history,” I say. “My focus is in diplomatic history of the region. The courses I’m teaching at UIC are in both. That’s why Kate and I were matched; she is essentially going for the same specialty as I am. Except her focus is military history and, although it is completely random and I told her that as her advisor, she shouldn’t attempt it, she’s also doing a minor focus on Irish history.”

He does laugh then. "Oh, Kate… I'm not surprised. Not at all."

“It’s irresponsible,” I chuckle. “But I hear it literally every time… ‘I’m Irish and stubborn.’” I try to affect her Chicagoan accent, but it comes out… interesting.

He chuckles again. "She's said it enough, maybe I could… 'I'm Irish and stubborn.'" He imitates.

I let out a loud laugh, then immediately cover my mouth, for fear of alerting the other patrons to our slight insanity. 

He looks pleased at my reaction before glancing at his watch. 

"Would… Raelynn, would you mind excusin' me for one moment?" He asks quietly.

“Of course!” I say, “Is everything alright?”

"Oh, peachy," he says, slowly getting up. "I'll be a moment, then I'll be right back." He brushes my shoulder as he passes. I watch him as he steps away, and then I pull out my phone quickly. I check my text messages, and I’m fine, but I call up Theresa anyway. 

“ _ Doctor! Are you wrapping your night so soon?” _

“No, no,” I say, keeping my voice down. “He had to step out. How’s Evie?”

_ “She’s… in her room, at least,” _ Theresa says. “ _ Jury is still out as to whether she’s planning on going to sleep or not. _ ”

“Can I talk to her?”

_ “Sure! One second, and I’ll…” _ There’s a knock. “ _ Genevieve, it’s your mother. _ ” There’s a bit of a shuffle, and her little voice comes onto the line. “ _ Mama! When will you be home?” _

I can’t help but giggle. “Not for a while,  _ ma chérie, _ but I’ll see you in the morning before school, okay? Can you please go to sleep for Theresa?”

She whines.  _ “But I am not tired. _ ”

“And I’m always tired, because you keep me up!” I giggle. “Please. Go to bed.”

_ “One more chapter.” _

“Alright, one more chapter, but Evie?”

_ “Mama?” _

“Only one. Do not test me, I will know.”

She sighs, a long sigh, one that I am very familiar with. The sigh of a child who does not appreciate having a bedtime. “ _ Yes, mama. _ ”

“Good girl. Be good for Theresa.”

_ “I want to know all about your date,” _ She says slyly.

I drop my voice low. “You’ll like him. He’s very nice. He’s… he’s very kind, and he’s funny. He’s a surgeon, remember?”

_ “He cuts people open!” _

“Genevieve Lynn!”

She just giggles, which turns into a raucous laugh. As the phone fumbles, Theresa takes over. 

_ “Well, now she’s not going to sleep.” _

“Oops. Sorry, Theresa.”

_ “No, it’s good for the both of you. I’ll try to get her settled down.” _

I chuckle. “Good luck. We both know how she is.”

_ “Like her mother,”  _ Theresa says, both accusingly and adoringly. 

“So glad to have found you,” I say. “I’ll be home.. Well, I don’t know when.”

_ “You know I’ll be here,”  _ she says and I hang up the phone.

I see Crockett come closer, and he smiles at me as he passes me, sitting down slowly.

“Everything okay?” I ask, going back to eating.

"Hmm?" He says, looking up at me. "Oh. Yes, yes of course." 

He reaches for his drink before putting it back down again, flagging the waitress down. 

"Could I trouble you for a water, ma'am?" He says softly, smiling at her. She smiles back and nods. 

"One moment," she says, disappearing. 

“Where were we?” I ask, giving him a smile.

He chuckles. "I'm not quite sure. Listen, Raelynn, I'm sorry again about ducking out on you at the gala in the ED."

“It was fascinating!” I say, slipping forward in my chair. “That was much better than any gala. I got to see you in action! That was…. Absolutely excellent.”

He flushes pleasantly, smiling at me. "The ED is practically my home," he says, and I'm not sure if he's joking.

“A workaholic, aren’t you?” I say. “I used to be that way.”

He shrugs. "Can't work as much as I used to, but I'm used to pulling weeks of 80 hours or more."

“I’m not a medical doctor, but something tells me whoever stopped you from working that much may have a bit of sense.”

He glances at me, and he looks almost frightened. "What do you mean, 'whoever'? I… I just realized I needed to stop pulling so many double or triple shifts," he says, almost guarded again.

I lean forward and touch his hand. “I know your type. I was your type. Someone else always has to step in on your behalf.”

His hand almost pulls away, but then he relaxes, just enough to flip his hand up to take mine. "If you say so," he whispers.

Something tells me he’s been through hell, but like he said, it was fresh. Too fresh to discuss. I only fear it will always be an open wound. And, for a trauma surgeon, I think that is a horrifying prospect. This is something he cannot heal with a few stitches and some gauze. 

I finish off my own plate, and I give him a smile. “I think I know what you need.”

He looks up at me. "Hm?"

I wave down the waitress to get the check. “This place is wonderful, but I know where we need to go next.”

He raises an eyebrow but nods. "Alright," he says cautiously. 

He smiles brightly to the waitress, taking the check. He looks concerned, for sure, but as soon as we quickly finish our dinner, I grab my coat and take him into the Chicago February. 

“Now, let me…. Ah, yes,” I say, “It’s a bit of a hike, but are you up for it?” 

"Yeah, of course," he says, watching me closely.

I take his hand in mine and almost jog down… Dearborn? Yes, Dearborn. I’m looking for…”Where is West Illinois from here?”

He points, and then looks to me, unsure of what next. That’s okay. He needs a little excitement in his life, I think. 

“Ah!” I finally mutter, after what feels like a forever walk to Illinois in relative silence, He just grasps onto me, and I hang a right.

“Do you find it odd,” I start to wonder aloud, and then I realize I can’t take it back, “how strangely comfortable I find myself with you?”

He looks down at our linked hands, and hums. "I trust you," he murmurs almost inaudibly, and he glances to me. "I barely know you, but I trust you."

“Why is that?” I ask quietly, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn at North… North St. Clair, yeah. It has one of those damned traffic circles. 

"I'm… I feel like I look at you, and I almost see a bit of myself." He stops walking, his hand still in mine as he looks at me.

“Oh. Oh, really?” I find myself saying. I feel my accent slip just a little into that other side of me, the less proper side, the side that gets me into trouble. “What… what exactly of me reminds you of you, then?”

His eyes bored into me, and he tilts his head. He studies me for one long moment, not speaking.

“You… you’re a different kind of man, Dr. Marcel,” I whisper. “Men like you… I expect pretentiousness, arrogance even. You are humble and modest. I expect a need to talk about yourself, about your history and your accomplishments. I have to drag them out of you. Anything else that could be perceived as negative qualities, I believe they are a facade.” As I start to cross the street, I walk backwards, still leading him forward, but pointing at him accusingly. “You put up a mask, Crockett Marcel. And something about me makes you take it off every once in a while.”

He follows me, and he almost stumbles at my words. He almost smiles, but he looks pensive. As we cross the street, he sudden looks right and his face lights up. 

Literally lights up. 

He pushes me forwards, almost shoving me, and he reaches for the lamppost as he uses his own weight to move me out of the way onto the sidewalk. 

A car whizzes by, and he staggers, his eyes wide.

"Are you alright?" He gasps, his hand on my arm as he visually checks me. 

And I just start laughing. He looks at me like I’m completely bonkers, but I can’t stop. 

“Life is too short for masks, Dr. Marcel,” I say, and I slip my hand around his collar and pull him into me. 

He leans in, still almost shaking, but he smiles, so small. 

He leans back, breaking the kiss and looks at me. He has to lean against the lamppost as he does. 

"Rae, what the hell?" He murmurs, but he's smiling. 

I finally let him go, walking down the street again. “Time to loosen up, Marcel!” I call.

I just hope he decides to follow. 

I hear him behind me, almost jogging. "Rae, Rae- slow down!" He calls, and when I look back, he's bent over with his hands on his knees, laughing.

“There you go!” I say. “Let it out! Feels good, doesn’t it?” I pull him back upright and slip into the sidewalks under Lakeshore. I can see the Ferris wheel from here.

"Rae, where are we going?" He says, and this time he's the one walking backward.

“I’ve wanted to come here since w—I moved to Chicago,” I say. “C’mon!”

I breathe in the freezing lake air. Really, it’s bloody cold. But I don’t care. I’m used to the heat. Time for a change, I think. 

He glances around, and he's almost like a child. "That makes both of us," he says, grasping my hand.

“What?! How long have you been in Chicago,  _ years? _ Never? Oh, c’mon,” I say, nearly tripping over my heels in excitement. 

He steadies me, chuckling. "Lead the way, darlin'."

I skid to a stop in front of the Ferris Wheel. “Oh. Oh shit, that’s tall.” 

Crockett snickers. "Ferris wheels generally are, darlin'."

“Do you… do you want to… you know, go up?” I say, leaning back and looking at the top. Damn. Damn, that’s tall.

"If you're game, I am."

I have to. I can’t back down now, and the city skyline at this time of night would be worth the sheer terror.

‘Yes. Yeah, let’s go.”

He takes my hands in his, pulling me closer. "You okay with it?" He asks softly.

“Yeah!” I say enthusiastically. “Yeah, c’mon, you scared, Marcel?” I turn around and let out a breath, nearly dragging him towards the Ferris Wheel.

"No, I don't think I am?" He says, but he's unsure.

But he follows me. "I trust you, Rae," he says, gripping my hand tight. I quickly get tickets, against his protests that he can, and I nearly drag him onto the gondola. I have to, because otherwise, I may chicken out. 

He follows me, and he stares at me, wide-eyed. When they shut the door, I let out a heavy breath, then grin at him. 

"Okay," he mutters. "Okay, this… this is fine."

I look out of the glass and try to breathe. “Ooo, I overcommitted to this Ferris wheel, didn’t I?” I mutter. “I’m afraid of heights.” I blurt out. 

Dammit.

He huffs a laugh, then turns slightly wild eyes to me. "And I'm fine with heights but less so with small spaces," he admits with a laugh.

“Why did we both decide we had something to prove?!” I laugh, feeling the adrenaline in my blood. 

"I don't know, I'm used to it," he chuckles, chancing a look out the window. I follow his eyes and I gasp. 

“Oh. Oh my God. They have old  _ ships _ here?” I gesture to the tall ship, anchored off the side of the pier. 

"Beautiful," he whispers.

We get to the top, and I’m thankful as soon as we start heading on the downswing. “Looks like… what, four masts? Definitely a schooner. You think we could go see it?” I ask, finally looking back to Crockett.

He's gazing at me, an almost goofy smile on his face.

“I’m fascinated by old ships,” I admit. “I spent most of my life landlocked, and my dad…” I drift a little. “He was in the Royal Navy for a tick. Always loved all those Patrick O’Brian books.”

"You're fascinating," he murmurs, and I wonder if he's aware he's even spoken. 

This time, I decide to just take the compliment, and I retreat from the Ferris Wheel’s gondola as quickly as I can. Grabbing for his hand, my heels nearly slip in between the bricks, but I regain my step and keep going to find that damn ship.

He follows, but switches his hands so his other one rests lightly on my back, steadying me. 

"Watch your step, Rae," he warns, chuckling. "If your heel breaks, I might have to carry - nope. I can't carry you. Don't let your heel break."

“Oh, Lord, no, I wouldn’t make you do that,” I say, my breath coming out in clouds as we approach the beautiful ship. “When I was a child, I was literally obsessed with pirates,”I admit. “Henry Morgan. Captain Kidd! Calico Jack, and Anne Bonny. Mary Read. Oh! Jean Lafitte, I’m sure you know all about his history.”

He chuckles. "Pretty much local lore from where I'm from." He studies the ship. 

“One of my favorite stories was his involvement in the Battle of New Orleans,” I say. It’s too late to get onto the ship now, but I can still admire her in the cold February air. 

He hums. "He did help General Jackson to victory."

“Of course he did. It’s not like he had that much of a choice.”

"And then he went back to his old ways! But," he says thoughtfully. "We won the Battle of New Orleans, with his help. Pushed through to the victory."

I scoff. “And all of it was completely null and void! It was  _ after _ the Treaty of Ghent was signed! It was a useless battle, whether you like it or not!”

"Doesn't matter a damn thing!" He cries, turning to face me. "Jackson still won, and it's a pivotal part of the war! That damn treaty had its own flaws."

“To say nothing of the men who died! They had no recourse! I believe the battle itself should have nullified the treaty. That kind of action is irreversible, even in the time of slow moving news. But of course, your Andrew Jackson, he had to galavant himself off to battle, half-cocked. Didn’t he kill a man before he took office? Hmm?”

"They had no way of knowing the Treaty had been signed! None! Besides," he says hotly, "that damned duel was a matter of honor. Dickinson questioned both Jackson's honor and that of his wife. I don't condone the killing of Dickinson, but his own first shot landed next to Jackson's heart, half crippling the man with pain for the rest of his life!"

“While I love a man with convictions as much as the next girl, Andrew Jackson was  _ mental! _ He stole land from the Indians! He participated in bigamy! There is a distinct difference between standing up for what you believe in and going off half-cocked, mind.”

He scoffs. "Bigamy? He married Rachel, both unknowing that her previous husband hadn't yet obtained the divorce. Neither of them knew!"

“Ignorance is not a legal defense!” I cry. “Just because they didn’t know does not mean they didn’t commit the crime! Besides, this all doesn’t change the fact that the Battle of New Orleans should have never occurred at all—“

He steps forward, one hand going behind my head and the other pulling me closer, and his lips land on mine, swallowing whatever words I had next. I grasp his jacket lapels, pulling him into me, making sure he doesn’t leave until I’m damn good and ready. 

Even when I pull away to look at him, and his expression oscillating between happiness and concern, I have to pull him back, my hands slipping along his jaw line as I pull him down into me.

His hands link behind me, pulling me up into him. He chuckles into the kiss, holding me as tight as he can, both tender and passionate. I’m nearly off my feet. The damn Chicago wind cuts me like a knife, but his arms are warm. 

I pull away, still holding his face in my hands. 

“Did we just have our first argument?”

He leans into my hands, closing his eyes happily. 

"I… I think so," he says, his hands coming up to cover mine as he leans into my touch.

“Good, get that out of the way,” I breathe. “Hey, are you free tomorrow night?”

"I… I think so?" He scrunched up his face. "Wait. Kate, Mouse, Kel, and the gang," he chuckles, "we're going out so I can teach them how to properly do Mardi Gras away from the Big Easy." 

He kisses me lightly again. "Come with," he says lowly, his eyes wide.

“Mardi Gras?” I gasp. “Last time I celebrated Mardi Gras I was in… Nice, I think. 2011? It was… I expect not as good as tomorrow will be.”

He smirks, looking at me. "I have a confession then, Rae, darlin'."

“You can say anything you want as long as you keep callin’ me darlin’,” I say.

He kisses my forehead before starting to giggle, almost having trouble speaking. I take the opportunity to kiss him as he stutters.

He keeps laughing into the kiss before pulling back. "Rae, darlin', don't distract me-"

“Hmm, no,” I say, kissing him again.

He kisses me back, yanking me closer, and then breaks for air, leaning his forehead on mine. 

"Okay. Tomorrow. Tomorrow night," he says, still chuckling. "You need to know that there…. Well, Kate especially, we'll all be absolutely nuts. As in… Rae, you remember the situation when we met?"

I start to giggle. “Oh,  _ yes _ .”

He starts to blush. "Well… Kate and I, on New Year's, we were actually scamming people for free drinks," he mumbles, not meeting my eyes.

I don’t know what my face does, but I feel extreme delight. “Oh, Crockett, now you’re speakin’ my language,” I say, feeling my accent slipping. 

His eyes widen. "Maybe you and I could… maybe we could give it a shot too," he says, almost hopefully.

“Nothing would make me happier,” I articulate.

"Oh, Rae darlin', you absolute peach," he whispers, looking positively giddy. "Listen. Don't wear something too fancy, dress like it's a party. We'll probably hit up a club." His hand is gently stroking my cheek. 

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?” I murmur.

The shyness is gone, and he leans into my hand, keeping his eyes locked to mine. He smirks. "I'm plannin' on it, darlin' Rae," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss me again. I push towards him, grasping onto him like he might run away at any time. I’m terrified I’m going to go too far. I know what happens when I go too far. 

“You tell me when and I’ll be there,” I whisper. 

"Meet us at my place, around 5, if you can," he says, lips resting against my forehead. 

“I’ll need your address, then,” I say, grinning.

"Edge Lofts and Towers, 9C, on South Desplaines. About 10 minutes from Gaffney." He's still holding me, as if he's scared if he lets go, I'll be gone.

“Got it. South Desplaines. 5 p.m. I’ll be there,” I murmur. “God, Kate knew what she was doing.”

He chuckles, almost a giggle. "Hell yeah, she did. I'm so glad she did this to us."

“Can I tell you something?” I say, my heart jumping to my throat.

He nods at me. "Yeah, of course!"

“I would pick a Navy Pier food truck over any fancy restaurant, as long as I was with you.”

"Oh thank God," he sighs. "Fancy restaurants make me nervous."

I kiss him again. That thought keeps slipping into my mind. 

I’m in danger.


	30. I've Been Reading Books of Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the New Orleans’ High Holy Days, Mardi Gras, comes to Chicago, and like hell is Crockett letting the crew get off easy. But with Raelynn pulling more than her own weight—sorry, she prefers Your Grace—the night starts off with a bang and only threatens to get better.

_ The Legends and the Myths _

**February 25, 2020** **  
** **1544 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Kate**

“Did you bring your entire wardrobe in this thing?” Greg mutters, hefting my molle higher on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know what to wear, okay?” I say. I’ve got what little makeup I own in my own bag. “You’re the one who decided you had to take my backpack for me.”

“What kind of husband would I be if I made my wife carry her own bag?” He grumbles. 

“Besides, I have questions for him.”

“Yeah, you heard from him this morning, right?” 

“Well, yeah, when I begged him to let us come over early,” I explain. “But I had no answers on his whereabouts last night.”

“I checked the tracker,” Greg seems to admit. I smack his arm. 

“We agreed! Only in times of great need!” 

“I was worried, alright?!” He stage-whispers. “He goes dark like that, and I worry!”

“We were discussing it, _ Cold Case Files _style! You knew?!”

“You had gone to bed! I couldn’t sleep! I had to find out!”

“You’re the worst.”

“Or the best,” he says, giving me that sideways smirk. 

I roll my eyes and slam my fist against their door. “Crockett!” 

The door whips open. 

"What it do, buckaroo?" He says, poking his head out and grinning at us. 

“Where were you last night?” I accuse, pushing past him with my supplies. “We were worried sick. You didn’t even check in!”

"I'm a grown-ass man, Kaitlyn, or should I say _ mom? _" He snarks, crossing his arms.

“You’re evading,” Greg says, setting the backpack down on the floor with a thump. “Still didn’t answer her question.”

"I was with Rae," he says, perching himself on the kitchen island. "Didn't realize I had to account for every action I take."

“Just worried about you,” Greg mutters at the same time my jaw drops, holding out my hand to silence my husband. “‘Rae’? As in Dr. Harlowe-Moore? You went out with her last night?”

“I was worried--” Greg tries, but I wave him off. 

“This narrative just shifted, I need every single detail,” I say, sitting down on one of the barstools.

Crockett just gives me a Look, and turns to Greg. "What were you sayin'?"

“I was worried about you, brother!” He says, exasperated. “Didn’t hear from you until this mornin’! I.. I was worried, okay?” His voice goes a little squeaky at the end.

Crockett looks down, flushing a bit. "Thanks, man, that… thank you."

Greg just tries to shake it off, pointing to the camouflage bag on Crockett’s floor. “She brought her entire wardrobe, claiming she needs your assistance.”

“Don’t think I’m done talking about ‘Rae’,” I say.

'Kett holds up a finger to me. "Save it, Gerwitz. She's comin' out with us. Mouse, I swear do not lift that and drop it, that _ will _break my floor."

“She-she’s coming with us? Tonight? Mardi Gras? The night of all nights for your kind?” I gasp. “Are we still going to be able to have our drink battle?”

He snorts. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't we?" He gently climbs down off the kitchen island, raising his eyebrow at me.

“Is she… she’s game? She’s ready to party? She’s down to clown?”

He points at me. "First off, don't ever say that again. Second, yes. Yes, she is. And she's excited. She made that… she made it very clear."

“You have to tell me everything. Tell me where you went. I’m betting it was something incredibly fancy and posh.”

He shrugs, spinning in a circle as he tries to figure out what to do. "Trattoria No. 10."

“Just open the bag and dump it,” I say, gesturing towards the molle. “That _ is _ fancy. What’d you talk about? How did it go?”

He bends down, opening the bag and tipping it over, just… sitting on the floor. 

"Went great. Fantastic. Obviously, if she's comin' with us. We talked about things." He's distracted, going through the clothes.

“What did you talk about? What did you figure out? Is she a keeper, Crockett?! I need to know!”

“You need to chill,” Greg says, sitting down on the floor near the pile of my clothes.

"Yeah, Kate, chill." Crockett is squinting at a dress. "This one!" He says, holding it up and tossing it to me. I start laughing. 

“No way. Mouse, did you slip this in there?” 

He looks sheepishly at me, but doesn’t answer. 

“I haven’t worn this since 2016, and even then, I could barely wear it,” I say, tossing it back.

Crockett whips it back at me with a triumphant look. "Yes, that. And this." He throws something… decidedly recognizable at me.

I grab it out of the air, and I immediately glare at Greg again.

This time, he looks… just as triumphant as Crockett. 

“I am not… for the love of God… putting on this corset again.”

"Yes, you are," Crockett hums, shoving himself up off the floor. "Your husband put it in there, he clearly wants to see it."

“He will not get to see it if it’s under a dress I can’t wear,” I say, sighing. I’m going to lose this fight. I can feel it. 

"I'll help you put it on if that's the problem," Crockett sighs. 

I open my mouth, and shut it, and open it again, and shut it, as I consider the implications. 

“Yeah, I’m good with that if Mouse is.”

“Do I get to watch?” He says.

"Up to Kate."

I can’t help it. It’s like my face gives them both the creepiest smile I can muster on its own. 

“This is how all the best pornos start.”

Crockett reaches down and smacks Greg's shoulder before glaring at me. "I'm not helpin' if you're gonna act like that."

“I’ll be good,” Greg says, shutting his mouth with his own hand. 

“Still don’t know how to do my hair and makeup,” I say, blowing the lock of hair that had fallen in front of my face out. “Is Kelley here? Or are you somehow good at that, too?”

Crockett shrugs. "I only braid. That's it. She's in the shower."

“Alright, we can wait,” I say. “Corset is absolutely last. Is he good?” I point at Greg, who looks suddenly self-conscious in his jeans, and boots, blue and white flannel and white The Cure t-shirt.

Crockett squints at him. "Nope, gotta fix this. Mouse, up. Off floor. Lemme look at you."

“Is it that bad?” He says, scrambling to his feet. I start putting clothes back into my backpack, excluding shoes, while I watch Crockett look my husband over.

"Spin." Crockett stands back, thinking.

Greg does a less than graceful spin, giving both of us a forced grin. 

“I feel like a rotisserie shithead.”

Crockett gasps, then yanks off Greg's flannel.

“I feel like I’ve done something to offend you,” Greg grumbles. 

"Yeah, _ this. _" Crockett gestures at him, dumps the flannel on the table, then disappears into his room. 

He's back in seconds with a jacket that he throws at Greg. "Put that on, kid."

He holds it out. It’s a stylized, Army green utility jacket. He shrugs at me and puts it on. 

“Oh. Oh, Crockett, you fucking genius.”

He shrugs. "Every once in a while, I have a decent idea."

Kelley yells from where she's leaving the bathroom, "Only once every two years or so!"

“Hi, Kelley, Crockett wants to shove me into a corset!” I say in one breath. “Can you do my hair and makeup?”

"First off, yes. Second off, yes," she calls, coming out in a way-too-big bathrobe. "What am I working with for a dress so I can decide how to paint yo' face?"

Greg grabs for the little black number: bodycon to my knees, with a sweetheart neckline, off the shoulder straps, and then thicker straps over my shoulders. Hides the bullet hole quite nicely. 

She nods. "Yes. Hell yeah, Kate. Yes. Hot. Gonna make you look even hotter. Face. Gimme." She reaches forward and cups my face in her hands, staring at it intensely.

“Uh, okay. Cool. We can do this,” I say. “I’ve got some supplies in my bag near Mouse…”

"Nope. We're using mine. I love you Kate, but you don't know." She turns to Crockett briefly. "Go do your damn hair, bud, the bathroom's free. Dunk that damn head of yours."

She points at Greg. "Good man. I see Crockett worked his magic."

“Was it really that easy?” He says, holding out his hands. “I don’t get it. Hey, can I watch you work?” He asks excitedly. 

She shrugs. "Yeah, fine. Just-" she turns to glare at him. "Touch my shit, I end you."

“I’ll sit and watch patiently,” he claims. I squint at him. We both know that’s a lie.

"Okay, c'mon," she drags me down to her room. Greg is somewhere behind. 

She shoves me into the chair, immediately turning into the Kelley gremlin, hunting around and making various noises. 

"Kate, how sexy do you want to be?"

“Uh, not to be a typical white man right now, but I would like to answer for her, please the highest level as possible, thank you,” Greg says in one breath.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Thank you, 'Kate.' Will the real Kate Gerwitz please stand up?"

“Well, I gotta make my husband happy,” I say in the most innocent voice possible.

"Gross," she mutters under her breath. "Okay, I got this." 

She starts working, turning my face this way and that. "Puff out your cheeks," she hums, working quickly. Frankly, I’m too scared to not follow her instructions, so I do as Greg hovers, watching Kelley work intently. 

"Okay, close eyes." She starts messing with my eyelids, and the brush almost tickles.

“You know, you’re literally the only one I trust anymore to do this,” I say. “What you did for the wedding was spectacular.”

“Hot,” Greg says, his voice almost cracking.

She hums happily. "Kate, keep eyes closed. Mouse, what do you think? Hot enough?"

He just lets out a contented sigh. “Kelley, you…. Are possibly a wizard.”

I open my eyes and nearly gasp when Kelley holds up a mirror. “You did that in… right now? How? You just?” It’s tasteful, but it's _ colorful _. She’s rimmed my eyes in purple glitter, followed my lower lash line instead of my usual swipe of some black and the mascara from the day before. There’s a touch of gold glitter on the inside of my lids, and given me a perfectly flicked cat eye. 

I am speechless, and I regret nothing. 

“That glitter though,” I say excitedly. 

She grins as she quickly does her own face. "Too much color?"

“What are you wearing?” I ask.

She starts cackling, then shows me her own eyes.

I’m cackling myself over her eyeshadow—it starts with white and yellow, fades into green, and then fades into purple. She has somehow achieved a large cat eye, but it’s not filled in, letting the color show through. 

“You’re ridiculous, and it’s perfect,” I say.

She starts messing with my hair, brushing, twisting, pinning, and then steps back, nodding. 

"Yes. Hot."

There's a lot of it down, but there's a crown braid going around my head and down the back.

She grins, then starts doing her own: swept to one side, and a tight braid on the opposite side, and it… it almost looks like an undercut.

She smirks, bounding up. "Okay, Mouse, I'm either kicking you out or you stay if you don't look 'cause I'm gonna get changed. I recommend leaving, but if you can keep your eyes _ away _, I do not care. I change in the damn locker room at the firehouse."

The amount of words I think nearly confuses Greg, but he finally nods his head and heads out. 

“The poor boy. The ADHD gets to him sometimes,” I giggle, and I hear ‘Crockett’ and then ‘Mouse’ as they greet each other again. 

Kelley snorts. "Crockett's probably still messing with that damn mop of hair!" She yells.

“Maybe he can help Mouse with his!” I yell.

“Maybe Mouse doesn’t think he needs help!” Greg yells back.

"Maybe Mouse is getting help anyway!" Crockett shouts, then says a bit quieter, "I wish I knew why we're yelling to each other."

“I really wish I knew, too,” Greg says at a stage whisper. 

Kelley snorts, then starts stripping. 

"You don't care, right?"

I realize I’m halfway out of my own pants, and then I shake my head. 

“Crockett said he would help with the corset, anyway,” I admit.

"Not one person is passing that door until I am into this damn thing," she growls, slipping into a shirt that almost looks indecent, plus the tight jeans, and the shoes that I remember vaguely that Crockett dubbed "hooker shoes."

“I am not straight,” I find myself muttering. “It’s impossible. Can I get Crockett now?”

She shrugs. "Yeah sure."

“Crockett!” I yell, “Mouse! Get the outfit!”

There’s a fumble in the living room as I expect Greg falls over himself to get to my pile of belongings. I grin at Kelley as he slams into the door.

"Incoming," she giggles.

He hands me what I need, and I quickly pull off my shirt and switch to a strapless bra before this damn corset goes on. Greg sits on the floor quietly. Good Lord, he’s only quiet when he wants something, I swear. 

I slide on the dress over my hips and get the corset on as far as I can go before I look over my shoulder at the door.

“Crockett! You promised!"

"Yeah, yeah! I'm coming!" 

He skids into the room, and he still has his Gaffney t-shirt on, but the _ jeans. _

“We’re going to explode the world,” I mutter. “We’re too hot. It’s too much. This is how the world ends. We’re gonna need to yank this thing, Crockett.”

Greg busts into immediate laughter.

Crockett nods, glaring at the laces.

"Breathe in," he warns before yanking.

I make the mistake of looking at Greg. His head slowly tilts. 

“You’re the worst,” I make the mistake of saying as Crockett pulls on it again.

"Stop moving, and shut up," he mutters as he yanks on it again, tying it. 

“Do it again,” I mutter, but he zips up my dress with zero difficulty. My breathing’s going to be a little hard tonight, but I don’t even care when I look to Greg. He’s just laying on Kelley’s floor, a wide grin on his face.

He turns me around. "Yep. That's the look. Mouse?"

He barely has enough strength to raise his thumb.

Crockett snorts. "I'll be right back, one second."

"Oh God, no, not this. I told him no," Kelley mutters.

“Wait, what’s going on?” I ask. “Do I need lipstick? Mouse, get off the floor, you know I can’t pick you up.” I make sure I add my earrings and necklace from Crockett, decide on my black ankle boots, and nearly throw my leather jacket at Greg. 

"This." Kelley waves a lipstick at me. "Pucker. Let's go, let's do it. Open so I can put this on you."

“I’m out, I can’t,” Greg says, throwing his hands up and leaving the room. 

“I have no explanation for his dirty mind,” I say.

"Mouse, tell me what you honestly think?" I hear Crockett say from the hallway. I peek out and hear Greg whimper. 

Black shirt. Black skinny jeans. Black boots. Black leather jacket. It’s one thing— a fucking _ look. _

But Greg holds up his hand.

“Wait. Needs…. needs something.” He considers for longer than I’ve ever seen him think, and then grabs his plaid shirt from earlier, wraps it around Crockett’s waist, and ties it. “There. You’re ready. I mean, I like it.”

Crockett nods, then bursts into the room. "Kelley, where's my-" 

She wordlessly holds up a dark brown eyeliner and tosses it to him. "Thanks, honey."

He leans closer to the mirror, swiping it carefully before turning around to look at us, chewing on his lip. 

"Well?"

“Can you wear that, like, all the time?” Greg asks, as there’s a knock on the door. He bounds out to get it. “Why don’t guys wear more eyeliner? It’s fucking hot! It’s flattering! I’m gonna get on a soap box, and I shouldn’t, because it’s Mardi Gras!”

Crockett just laughs, turning to me. "Katie Kat? Thoughts?" He does a slow twirl, and a hand comes up for his thumb to loop through his belt loop.

“All my thoughts verge on dirty, oh come on, Eileen,” I sing almost to myself. “I’m sorry, Katie Kat can’t come to the phone right now, she’s climbing her best friend with her eyes, can I take a message?”

He rolls his eyes. "Wow, thanks, darlin'. Oh. Door. Oh God. Is it Rae yet?" He checks the clock, and he almost looks half panicked, half excited.

I tsk, catching it all. “Crockett James Marcel, that was quite a reaction,” I say. “We need to have a chat, I think.”

On cue, Greg calls out, “Raz is here!”

“Saved by the Mouse,” I whisper, brushing past Crockett and fixing his collar. 

He whines, and Kelley is out like a shot. "Tommmmmyyyyyyyy!"

I step out and survey his look. I’m surprised, actually. I usually only see him on the ice, or in his uniform. He looks…. polished, even; the gold pants are a nice touch. Blue button down, is he… is he wearing a fucking bow tie? Grey pullover sweater, and a blazer. 

Okay. Interesting. Boy can clean up. 

But what’s better is his face when he sees Kelley. 

The initial reaction is his typical— he lights up. His entire face changes. He’s smiling with his entire soul. And then he takes in the outfit: the lacy, almost lingerie top, the tight jeans, the hooker heels. 

I’ve never seen another human being blue screen so hard before, and I’m married to one Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz. 

Kelley steps closer to him. "Hey, baby," she whispers, and she looks in awe as she gently touches the bowtie. 

I make gagging noises directed at Greg. He glares at me. 

“What?”

“We could have been them when we were their age.”

“Are you a fucking romantic?”

“Maybe?!”

“I want a divorce,” I grumble. Raz just touches Kelley’s hair, and then finally gets enough voice to speak, albeit broken and quiet. 

“You… you look good.”

"Good enough to kiss?" She says, almost as quiet.

I continue making gagging noises, gesturing to Crockett. He shrugs. How can he let this bullshit go on? I should chirp them, but I can’t come up with anything good. Instead, I slip on my leather jacket and keep cleaning up our insanity as the lovebirds continue. 

“Oh, oh, yeah,” Raz fumbles. “You looked so pretty, I didn’t want to mess it up—“

“Can you please just kiss her, Raz? You’re killin’ me, Smalls!”

Raz slips his hands over Kelley’s hips and pulls him into her, kissing her hard, but making his best attempts not to mess up her hard work. Good man. 

Kelley is _ squealing. _ Her one hand actually cups the back of her boy's head while the other comes up to play with the bowtie.

Gross. 

“Hey, Crockett?”

He's covering his eyes as he hauls himself back up on the counter. "Yes?"

“If I ever act like that, I give you license to shoot me on sight, okay?”

He winces. "Maybe not."

“Shit, not the best use of words, but you get my point,” I mutter. “Can someone get the fucking door? Kelley? No?” 

I push aside the lovebirds and open the door, and outside I see a vastly different Dr. Harlowe-Moore than I’m used to. She’s poured into the skinniest black jeans I think I’ve ever seen, with tasteful holes in the knees and a pair of scuffed up combat boots. Underneath her black leather jacket is a green plain blouse, and when she shifts her aviators from her face, I see she’s gotten into the spirit with some purple glitter eyeshadow. For the first time, I see her hair in what looks like it’s natural habitat: parted on the side, in wavy curls, halfway down her back. The brightest color is her maroon-red lipstick. 

Her eyes brighten when she sees me, though.

“Kate! Look at you!” She laughs, and I open the door wide enough for her to come in, past the lovebirds. 

“Good to see he’s out of the sling,” she mutters, before looking over Crockett. Her accent slips as she just says, “oh, bloody hell.”

His jaw drops and his eyes go wide. "R-Rae? You- oh wow." He slips off the counter, wobbling a bit as he steadies himself. 

"You… Rae, wow. You look… you look really good," he says, starting to stutter.

She chuckles. “The bad boy look suits you,” she says, closing the distance between them. “Oh, yeah. Definitely suits you.”

Crockett looks around briefly before yanking her close. "Can I kiss you in front of them?" He mutters, almost inaudibly. 

“I, in fact, would require it,” she says. I stare at the ceiling, groaning. 

He smirks, tilting her head up and meeting her in the middle, and wraps her in his arms to pull her closer.

I glance from Crockett and Raelynn to Raz and Kelley, and then back to Greg. 

“We used to be like that, you know,” he says, almost wistfully. 

“We were never like that, take it back.”

“Then we got married,” he adds. 

I throw my shoe at him. Asshole. 

* * *

_The Testaments They Told_

**February 25, 2020** **  
** **2156 Hours** **  
** **LITE Chicago** **  
** **Kate**

“Did anyone have the foresight to like, get a table or something?” I say, approaching the club’s closed off door and line of people. The booze at dinner still gives me the perfect high as Greg settles in beside me. “Crockett, tell me in your infinite N’awlins wisdom you thought of this.”

He shoots me a look. 

"No, actually, I didn't?"

“Should we have?” Greg asks. I’m surrounded by children. 

“None of you have done this before, have you?” Rae says with a sigh. “I once convinced the bouncer at Club La Fira Villarroel in Barcelona I was a member of the Royal Family.” She starts heading towards the bouncer, brushing past Crockett. 

He watches her, and gets that damn goofy smile.

“You gonna be okay, there, buddy?” Greg says. I turn around to check on Raz and Kelley. I fucking regret it. 

“Can y’all, like, chill? Please?”

She looks innocent from where her arm is wrapped around his neck, giving me a hundred-watt smile. Raz doesn’t even look at me, he just watches her. 

“Someday, this honeymoon phase? It’s gonna end. And I’m going to be happy when both of you are normal again.”

Rae lets out a loud whistle, and then snaps her fingers. 

Crockett perks up. "She calls!" He says, hightailing it over to her. The bouncer opens the door for us, and I’m suddenly afraid. 

“What did you even say?” Greg asks.

“Oh, for the rest of the evening, you shall refer to me as Duchess or Your Grace,” she says with a smirk. 

“How the hell did you get us all in?!” I ask at a stage whisper as she leads us to a large table. 

She points at Raz and Kelley. “Personal assistant, stylist,” before turning to me and Greg. “You two are easy. Bodyguards.”

"And… what about me, 'Your Grace'?" Crockett asks, stepping closer, a smirk on his face.

“Boyfriend,” She giggles, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, as she steps backwards through the nearly empty club--at least, for now-- towards the bar. “Gonna set up some bottle service, you wanna start with Jameson, or Captain Morgan?”

He shrugs. "I'm easy." 

Kelley calls, "Jameson!" from where she's hanging off Raz.

I nod my head to Crockett. “What do you think?” I say, gesturing towards Rae as she leans onto the bar across the room. 

He watches her, and smiles softly. "She's amazing. Kate, thank you."

I slide into the booth, gesture for Crockett to follow. “Seriously. How did last night go? How are you doing?”

He follows, sitting down as gently as he can. "It went great, honestly. I had a great time, and… and I think she did too." He smiles again, then looks back up to me. "What do you mean how am I doing? I'm happy as hell."

“You know, just… checkin’ up on how you’re feeling. I know you’re… with what happened…” I drift. God, I sound like Greg.

“We don’t want a repeat of New Years with Jay, okay?” Greg indicates. “Not sayin’ you’re gonna be irresponsible, just makin’ sure.”

He shrinks a bit. "Number one, I'm a doctor. Number two, I haven't taken the painkillers for twenty-four hours, I'm fine."

Greg holds up his hand in surrender. “Alright, no need to freak out about it. We trust you. Just checkin’ in.”

The doors seem to open for the rest of the common folk, and the deejay already starts amping up the music as Raelynn starts her way back over. She’s already got a drink in her hand, as she spins to the music. 

“Bottle service, comin’ soon!” She says. “Sorry, they gave me a drink already. I haven’t done this in… God, a decade?”

I take a long look at Crockett, whose smile just grows. 

"Well then," he says, trying to slip out of the booth to meet her. "Let me help."

And in barely no time at all, that damn nightclub fills, and the bottle service is… more than perfect, and I’ve completely lost all control over my husband. 

“I would dance with you, you know,” Greg says, leaning to me. “That is something that could be arranged.”

“You? Actually want to dance? Color me shocked,” I say, raising my eyebrow at Crockett. Rae has been there and back, there and back, and is seemingly taking a break with her whiskey. Kelley and Raz… I lost them about twenty minutes ago to the crowd.

Crockett hums. "If Kate doesn't want to, I will."

Greg nearly falls over himself to get up. I nearly spit out my whiskey laughing. 

“Go! Go hang out with your boyfriend, or whatever!” I say over the loud music.

Crockett grabs Greg's hand, yanking him onto the floor, and lays a hand on his hip, laughing the entire time. I can’t stop laughing at Greg's face-- somewhere between ‘hell, yeah’, and ‘this is fine’. 

“He speaks very highly of you, you know,” Raelynn says, sliding closer to me so we can talk. 

“He can barely speak when he talks about you,” I retort with a smile. 

“What do you mean?”

“He’s speechless. Can’t get anything out of him. I’ve never seen him like this, Raelynn.”

She watches the two of them dance. 

Crockett's pulling Greg close, and tries to twirl him around, winking at him before laughing.

I keep giggling. 

“You all are so close,” she comments. “It could possibly be unhealthy,” she says with a laugh. “But at the same time, I envy it. Sister, brother. You’ve transcended the friendship qualifiers.”

“We’ve had to,” I say. “With everything we’ve all been through…”

“It seems that way,” Raelynn says. I can barely hear her over the music. “I have a feeling there’s something he doesn’t want to tell me.”

I take a long drink, finishing off mine. “I think we all have things we don’t want to tell.”

She chuckles once. Almost darkly, almost sadly. “You ever think that sometimes, our secrets are the reasons we lose people?”

“All the time,” I say. “All the fuckin’ time, Raelynn. That’s why I almost lost Mouse. More than once, in fact. Almost lost Kelley that way, too. And Crockett, while we’re talking about it. It’s not the easiest thing in the world, but that’s why… that’s why we’re all family. Because we’ve gotten to the point where secrets? They don’t exist. So maybe that’s why my husband is grinding on your….”

She watches them and laughs. “Is it ridiculous to want to call him my boyfriend, although this is only our second official date?”

“Not at all,” I say. “Crockett is… Crockett is exactly the kind of guy you want around. In any form. He’s always going to be there for you, no question. He’s always going to help. He’s always going to try to make you laugh with that damn N’awlins drawl,” I try to affect it, but it just makes her cringe. “And sometimes, when it’s necessary, he’ll make my husband question his sexuality.”

Crockett pulls Greg into him, and attempts a dip. Greg can’t even do it, he’s laughing too hard. 

“I never told you what happened, did I?” I say to Raelynn, watching those two. 

“About what, exactly?”

“Greg. God, two years ago, he was… he got stuck in… he had re-enlisted,” I finally get out. “Convoy. Left him nearly paralyzed. He was in a wheelchair. Two years later? I… I’ve never seen him so happy. I just hope Crockett would be able to do the same for you as he did for Greg.”

“I think he already has,” she says.

Crockett is laughing hard enough that he's grabbing Greg's jacket, hanging onto it.

“So, that intensely intimate flirting from the gala wasn’t necessarily a gag?” She asks, a smirk forming on her lips. 

“Uh, it’s complicated?” I offer with a forced smile. “It’s… It’s mainly Crockett being ridiculous, and Greg being a fucking pushover.”

“He seems to enjoy it.”

I glance back to the two of them. Kelley and Raz have now found their way back, and Raz has a plethora of Mardi Gras beads around his neck. 

“I have no answers for any of this. Really.”

Crockett comes back, one hand wrapped around his stomach as he laughs, the other leading Greg. 

"Your husband is… is a hell of a dancer, Katie Kat," he gasps, flopping down into the booth.

I raise my eyebrow at the two of them. I make eye contact with Crockett, barely let my eyes drop down to his hand on his stomach, then back to his eyes.

He smiles at me, barely shaking his head.

The song fades into another and Raelynn shoots her drink. “I need out. I need out right now.”

I try to focus on the lyrics outside of the beat—

“_Oh, she’s sweet but a psycho—” _

I don’t think any of us are moving fast enough to let her out, so she takes her small frame, slips under the table and pops out on the other side. 

Crockett's eyes go wide. "Holy shit," he breathes.

Greg nudges him. “What the hell are you doing. What the… you need to get out there. For the love of everything that is holy.”

Crockett scrambles to his feet, brushing past Greg, and I give him a grin. 

“Hi, honey, how was your day?”

“Don’t you say a fucking word.”

I just laugh. God, we all needed this.

* * *

**Crockett**

I get close to Raelynn, and I grin.

"Wow," I can't help but say, and I stretch out a hand. She takes it and immediately slides it along her waist, forcing me close. 

I push closer, and my other hand comes up to her face to brush a piece of hair from out of her eyes. She’s one step away from frantic, but she’s laughing. It’s so loud in here, I can’t even hear her, and she hits the chorus, knowing literally all the words. 

I hum along, and I laugh as I try to move closer. She takes the hint, and immediately, she turns around, her body pressed to mine. Kelley, who has yet to really take her hands off Raz, spots us and lets out a wild yell.

It’s not just chaos, it’s _ feral_.

It’s Mardi Gras, baby.


	31. Holy hands, will they make me a sinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Long Con. Another piece of trash off the street. Making out in a back alley. Having sex in (another) public bathroom. The long-awaited drinking contest. All of these come to a head during the crew's Mardi Gras activities.

_ Choke this love ‘til the veins start to shiver _

**February 25, 2020** **   
** **2215 Hours** **   
** **LITE Chicago** **   
** **Crockett**

Dancing with Raelynn, it's intoxicating. 

It's a rush, a thrill. But it's so much more than that.

As the song ends, I dip down to kiss her. She pulls me into her just as hard as I drag her to me. There’s incessant yelling from the table, and when we finally break, and I look over, Kate refuses to stop cat calling. 

"Well?" I smirk at Rae. "Any thoughts… Duchess?" I drawl it out as much as I can.

“That can stay always,” she says. “That may be a permanent nickname. I could get very, very used to that. Hey! They’re bringing more booze to the table,” she giggles. 

I hum. "Rae, remember when I told you about the scams? Feel like watching one?"

“Is it gonna get sexy?” She offers with a grin. 

"That's the plan."

“Count me in,” she says, kissing me again. “Do you need Kate? She’s looking a little handsy.”

I roll my eyes as I look back. She and Mouse have shifted into seemingly one entity in the booth.

"Yes, I need Kate. Hold on." I grab Rae's hand, pulling her to the booth. I lean down close to Kate and Mouse. "Wakey wakey eggs and bakey!" I bawl straight into their ears.

Kate jumps, nearly throwing hands, but regains herself quickly. “Is it time?!”

"Yes, it is," I say, and I reach up to run a hand through my hair, mussing it up.

“Do I need a name?” And then she gasps. “Do I get to be the one in charge this time?”

Mouse lets out an involuntary whimper.

"Yeah, Katie. You're in charge. Your wish? My command, darlin'." I bow low, winking up at her.

She scrambles out of the booth, goes back, drops a quick kiss on Mouse’s lips, and comes back to me. “You’re gonna have to make the approach. I’m shit for approaches. Jacket on or off?” She asks.

I survey her. "On." I reach up and tug loose a curl and I let it fall over her eyes.

"Yeah, you're ready," I say, and I chew my lip while I wait for her direction. She scans the dance floor, the bar, searching for our mark. 

“Just how hard are you willing to go, Marcel?” She murmurs, her colorful, glitter covered eyes squinting. 

I glance to Raelynn, and I see her smirk, and i drag my eyes back to Kate. "As hard as I need to go, baby," I whisper, twirling for her.

“The perfect mark,” she says under her breath. “There.”

I trace her gaze to a man sitting in a booth not unlike ours, only he’s surrounded by a few desperate looking women. Oh, there’s one man. Perfect. But he looks rich. Expensive. Dangerous.

"Are you sure?" I say, trying to get a read on him. 

“You scared of a little competition?” She asks. “I’ve been to  _ war _ , Marcel. That asshole?” She chuckles, and it’s dark. “I’ll eat him for breakfast.”

I smirk. "Then let's go. Who am I supposed to be?"

She’s already halfway across the dance floor, gyrating as she moves. Nearer to his table, she pulls me into her, her hands on my shoulders. 

“We’ll play it by ear. Become who he needs us to be.”

"I'm trustin' you, darlin'."

“I want his wallet,” she hums, and that back alley Canaryville comes out a little. Especially when the guy smacks the hand of a girl reaching for her own drink. “I can feel the Robin Hood comin’ on. Crockett, I may want to fight him.”

I frown, staring at the guy. "I'll be in line right behind you, waitin' for my turn."

“Do we have a severe problem?” She stops, grasping my face in her hands.

"What do you mean by problem?"

“With committing more than just petty crime.”

"I don't like him, he's slimy. Let's just play it out, and we'll see how close to fightin' we get."

“Did you mean: my life?” She whispers in my ear. She’s right to do it: when I look over, we’ve caught his eyes. 

I pull her close, kissing up her cheek. It's game time, boy.

Without missing a beat, Kate turns around and grinds against me, her hands in her hair. I push into her, close as I can, and I get almost eye contact with the man before dragging my eyes away, and my hand comes up to Kate's neck.

Kate lets out a little bit of a whimper. 

“Well, shit,” she says over her shoulder. “I’ll like that a  _ little _ too much.”

I hide my snort. "Talk to your husband about that," I whisper in her ear, nipping at it.

“You should describe it to him later,” she says, spinning around. She slips her hand behind my neck. “He’d rather hear it from you.”

I shake my head. I don't know who we are anymore. 

"Should we try to move in? How do you need me to act?"

“How are you feeling tonight?” She nearly growls. The untamed nature of the night is taking over. “Little bit dom or a little bit sub?”

"Little bit sub, but Kate, really?" I sputter, trying to act like I'm not confused.

“What? I’m married, not dead,” she says. “I know shit. You would be surprised.” She raises her eyebrow. “Mouse? Damn good.”

"Kate baby, there are things I don't need to know," I say lowly, then smirk. "Little bit sub it is."

Without another comment, she lets her jacket slide a little off her shoulder and makes her approach. She looks at each girl, resting her eyes on them one by one, and says, in a voice I’ve never heard before:

“Leave.”

I almost look to her in surprise, but I force myself to just act… almost normal.

And, against all odds, all but the guy and one girl leave the booth, like…. a goddess enacting her will.

And then, without looking at me, she snaps her fingers. 

I'm right there in an instant, eyes forward, awaiting instruction. And dying of laughter inside.

With a flick of her fingers, she beckons me closer. 

I step forward, looking to her. I'm not entirely sure what she wants me to do, but hell. I'll do it. If nothing else, we'll put on a damn fine show for Mouse and Rae.

With a gentle jerk, she grabs my collar, and pulls me down to her. Her lips near my ear, she whispers, “Laugh once, then look at him with a serious look.”

Showtime. 

I chuckle, then let the smile fall as I turn my head to meet his eyes.

She whispers once more. “Tell him I think it’s cute he surrounds himself with such weak people.”

I swallow hard, then try to straighten up, looking for permission to step closer to him. She gestures with a single nod of her head. 

I step closer to the man, head ducked appropriately. "She… she says that she thinks it's cute you surround yourself with such weak people," I say quietly, tacking on a, 'sir.'

“And what does that make you?” The increasingly irritated rich asshole says. 

“He and I have a …. mutual arrangement,” Kate finally says, straightening in her seat and letting her jacket sleeve fall off her shoulder. Through the straps of her dress, I can see her scar. I’m unsure of whether he can.

“Why did you scare all of my friends away?” The man says, exasperated, looking to the two who remained. 

“Far too many for what you desire,” she purrs. 

Oh, she's really startin' to hit her stride. 

I almost laugh, but then stop. Gotta stay still, boy.

“It’s your choice,” she says, running her fingers down my jaw. Her hand just barely graces my throat, long enough for me to shudder. She licks her lips, running her eyes over him, before looking to me. “I’m sure we can find another one, don’t you think?”

"Yes, ma'am," I whisper, and hell. Kate knows enough to make this look good. 

But the guy still looks unconvinced. If she wants his wallet, she’s gonna have to either get close or get him out on the dance floor. 

“Come find me if you’re ready,” she says, just loud enough to be heard over the music. She leads my hand around her waist and uses me to stand back up.

For the second time, I almost start giggling, but stand steady, and I stare into her eyes, a silent  _ "what are you doing?" _

She turns her back to him, a determined look on her face, as she drags me back to the dance floor. She slides my hand on her thigh. 

“I give it about ten seconds, if you play this right.”

I grin, one flash, one desperate flash and pull her close.

"What do you want me to do?" I purr.

“If you think Mouse would want a threesome after you do it, it’s the right thing to do.”

Oh, hell, okay then.

I dip my head, kissing her collarbone, all the way up to her jaw, humming as I do. Her hand slips into my hair, and I can hear her giggling, then her voice:

“Three, two, one.”

And our mark has arrived. 

I don't stop. If she wants me to stop, she can damn well tell me. 

But I do flick my eyes up to first Kate, then our mark, and I hope I'm flushed enough to make a difference.

She slips a hand around the mark’s waist, pulling him into the two of us. She feigns leaning up to kiss him, but pulls back before she does.

I feel a bit boxed in, but I don't care. I just try and keep moving. I keep my lips on Kate, and I keep my eyes on the mark. 

Your move, Kaitlyn.

With a gentle hand, she pulls my chin up so we’re face to face, and she smirks ever so slightly. 

And with another gentle hand, I feel her other hand slide something into mine.

How the hell did she already get his wallet?!

I say nothing, but I let my eyes go wide, and I'm distracted now. Now, it’s the second part of the plan. 

The fight, apparently. 

Already, I see her scanning the club for security. It doesn’t take her long to find the guy she wants: large, with a high and tight haircut, guarding what looks to be a corner that leads into a hallway. 

And it’s right next to our party’s table.

I wink at her, and I'm waiting for direction. This is her gig; I'm just along for the wild ride. And maybe fluster Mouse for a laugh.

She doesn’t say a word. She just leads us both, walking backwards, towards that back corner. 

This? Now this is a thrill. I drag my eyes to Kate, then our mark, and I could almost whimper at the look on Kate's face.

_ Focus,  _ Marcel. 

She slides past the bouncer, and whispers in his ear. I see her pass… some cash? To him as she slides by, turning around and pressing her back against the wall.

I follow, eyes down, to stand slightly in front and off to the side, and I can't help the smirk.

She grabs for the mark, pulling him into her. His mouth is immediately on her neck, and she beckons me in with a finger. 

I hear a “Jesus,  _ fuck,”  _ in Mouse’s voice.

I come closer, my hand grazing up her front, unsure what to do.

Her hand slips into my back pocket. Where I had stashed the wallet. With a single flick of her wrist, I think she rids it of the cash, slides it into my pocket, and palms the wallet. Deftly, she sleight of hand swaps the wallet into her other hand, distracting the mark, and slides his wallet back in his pocket.

Well, damn. Don't ever piss Kate off. I slip closer, pressing her further into the wall, and almost between her and the mark. I turn to look over my shoulder at him, hoping I look saucy enough to catch his eye.

She lifts her leg around him, pulling him further into her, and his hand slides up the skin of her thigh. 

She leans back her head against the wall and starts laughing. And then she bites her lip. 

“Time for you to go.”

Oh hell. If I didn't have Raelynn and she didn't have Mouse, and maybe even in another life, this show would be enough for me to try and kiss Kate senseless. Not sure I'd survive. Who the hell knows anymore? 

But I agree. This asshole needs to go.

And she gasps, pushing the guy away, eliciting the attention of the security guard nearby. 

Without another word, she cold cocks the asshole, and he goes  _ reeling.  _ When he finally gains enough composure to look at her, it’s both shock and awe. 

I move forward, and I'm almost ready to punch him myself. Kate blows on her knuckles, not paying attention, when the guy comes at her. 

I grab his shoulders, hauling him back, and my fist connects with his jaw. I don't stop, almost chasing him as my other fist hits his cheek.

He’s down on the floor before I even realize it. Kate is clapping in glee as the security guard pulls the half delirious asshole from the ground and gives Kate a nod. 

“Cap,” he says, dragging him off. 

“Mazur,” she says, giving him a slight salute. 

"Wait, you know him?" I gasp, falling into the wall, shaking out my hands.

“Nik?” She laughs, pointing to him as he leaves. “Fifth year senior. ROTC. Slipped him a fifty and a thanks a bunch.”

"Pays to have friends in places, I guess," I say, and I just want to sit down. Hell, might sit right here.

But Kate hauls me up and reaches into my back pocket. She pulls out a chunk of cash and leads me back to the table. She gives the crew an elaborate bow.

I half-ass a bow, sitting down hard, still catching my breath. "Well?" I turn to Raelynn with a smile.

I realize her face is a little flushed. From alcohol or something else, I can’t tell. 

“This…. is what you do for fun,” she says, almost out of breath. “I have found my people.”

I laugh, leaning back into the booth, and I feel something. Not sure what. 

"Well," I say. "We're a hell of a crew."

I look up to Mouse. He whispers in Kate’s ear, and she giggles. 

“Good Lord, Mouse,'' she whispers. He says something else, and her face blushes. 

“We gotta go,” she says, her voice rough.

I stare at them, and I almost ask them if they're okay. And then I remember New Year's. 

"Play safe, kids," I say flippantly, smiling up at them.

Mouse yells back to me over the music. “Thanks, dude! You’re so hot!”

I roll my eyes, turning back to Raelynn. 

"I'm not drunk enough for any of this."

* * *

_ Faster than a hairpin trigger _

**February 25, 2020** **   
** **2356 Hours** **   
** **LITE Chicago** **   
** **Kelley**

Wow, that… I have seen way too much. Way too much. 

But Raelynn's a keeper. Crockett needs to not do the 'I'm going to push people away' thing with her, because she's good for him. 

Speaking of good.

I turn back to Tommy. 

"Hey, honey," I say, despite the fact I've been beside him the whole time.

He’s got that dumb smile on his face again. He just looks so happy, especially in that bow tie. That ridiculous bow tie. 

I lean forward and kiss him lightly. He just grins again.

“Kate is just as insane off the rink as she is on it,” he chuckles. 

I giggle. "Oh yeah. Always. Al-ways. Tom?"

“Kelley?” He says, finishing his glass.

"I'm glad you're here," I say, snuggling into his side.

“I’m glad you guys want me here.”

"Of course we do," I say. "I do."

“Wanna go dance?” He says excitedly. 

"Hell yeah, Tommy," I start bouncing, scrambling to get up.

He’s already on the floor, and that awkward boy is suddenly gone, as he grabs me and spins me around. 

I start giggling, because wow. He's gone from awkward and hot, to  _ hot and hot. _

I dance closer, my hand slipping to the back of his neck with an easy grin.

Everything is easy with him. It’s easy as he slides his hand to the small of my back and pulls me even closer. 

I can't help the sigh as I push closer, it's gotta be closer. 

And then… I change my mind. I spin around and press backwards into him. 

I have no idea how he'll react, and I'm almost breathless. 

And then he pulls my hair back and presses his lips against my neck. I can feel his heartbeat even against the beat of the heavy club music. 

I gasp, but I grind into him as my hands come up to try and catch in his hair. I can hear his breath, low but sharp, as the beat shifts, and his hands hit my hips.

I push into him as much as I can, because suddenly I need to be as close to him as possible.

"Tommy," I breathe, looking over my shoulder at him. Oh, he's beautiful. The way the light hits his face… and the look on his face, I can't place the emotion.

And then, as the light hits his face, it’s like the heavens opened up when he smiles. Even in the midst of the chaos, the wild, the untamed, he can only…. smile.

And then he lets out a laugh that echoes over the beat, one that rings through the club, and he doesn’t look ashamed or worried or concerned. He’s just…. Tommy. 

I spin around and pull him down to kiss him, and I kiss him hard. Hard enough I don't want to breathe, because then I need to pull away. I only want his lips.

He very nearly picks me up, his hands still on my hips, so he can reach me better, and then we’re making out in the middle of a dance floor on Mardi Gras. 

My hands tangle in his hair, and I'm giggling into his lips. 

"Tom- Tommy-" I gasp.

He looks worried now. “What did I do? Did I do it right?”

I pull him back into me for a kiss, then start yanking him towards the back. "Somewhere else. Let's go. Wanna kiss you in private."

“Oh.  _ Oh, _ okay,” he says, immediately following. We both have a one track mind right now. 

I yank him out the door into the alley, and my lips are back on his, and my hands wrap around him. He lets out an ‘oof’ when I push him against the wall, and he looks shocked for a second. Just for a second, because his hands are back on my hips like magnets. 

I break the kiss, but then my lips are on his jaw, and I slip a hand into his back pocket to pull him closer.

He lets out a small whimper, and he doesn’t try to hide it. Without the music to drown it out, I can feel his rapid heartbeat in his chest. 

"Is this okay, Tommy?" I whisper between the kisses I'm laying on his jaw, and down his throat.

“Oh. Oh it’s so okay. Yes. So okay. This is great,” he says, his voice shaky. 

I pause and smirk at him. "Don't make me do all the work, baby," I whisper before I start sucking on the side of his throat.

“What…” his voice cracks. “What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want.”

I look up at him, and I almost get lost in his eyes. "I want what you want," I say, and I mean it.

“I want you,” he says simply. “I…. I don’t know what else I should say.”

"That's alright with me."

I reach up on my tip toes and guide one of his hands to my back. 

"Gonna kiss you like you've never been kissed, Thomas," I warn quietly.

“Oh,” he says nervously. “Already…. already did that, but yes. Yes, please.”

I loop my arms behind his neck and almost launch myself up. 

Lord, I hope he can catch me.

He looks shocked for a half second, but grasps onto me, spinning and using the wall to brace my back.

I wrap my legs around him and then pull him closer, and my lips land on his again, but now it feels  _ different.  _

I can feel the cement against my back, and Tommy seems to take my heavy breaths as an invitation. His hand wanders, slipping under my jacket and to my ribs. 

I sigh into the kiss, and I deepen it. I didn't really think this through, but I'm so glad. 

My hand cradles his cheek, and I can feel his hand on my ribs.

And then, he groans a little, and I realize his arms are shaking. 

“Sorry, not you, it’s… it’s my arm,” he murmurs. 

I slip down, all of the fervor forgotten. 

"Tommy, you okay? Oh God, honey, I'm so sorry," I say, trying to slip his jacket off so I can see. 

“I’m okay,” he says, taking my hands in his. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just…. wyew, Kelley, you…. you amaze me.”

I stare at him. "I amaze you? Baby…. How?"

“That was… no one… God, you’re so damn hot!” He finally lands on. 

I smile, just a bit. "You're hotter."

“No, I’m not playing this game with you. My sister would do that with her boyfriends and it never ended well.”

I tilt my head, and I'm blushing. "I'm not playing a game. You're definitely hotter than me."

He laughs, and it bounces off the alley walls. “Go ahead. Say it again.”

"Okay. You're  _ definitely  _ hotter than m—“

He pulls me into him once more, cutting me off with a kiss. I kiss back, but this time it's soft, it's pure. It's sweet. 

When I break this time, I'm bouncing. "TommyTommyTommy!"

“Kelley Kelley Kelley?” 

"I want to… hold on stand back."

I stare at the wall, looking way up. "I have a plan."

“Kel, be careful?”

I smirk at him. "I love that you know me well enough to not stop me."

He laughs. “There’s no stopping you, Kelley. There’s only making sure you get to where you’re goin’.”

I wink at him, and then I start looking for handholds. 

"Okay. Tommy, if I fall and splat and die a fiery death, you get all the embarrassing pictures of Kate in the envelope in my jewelry box," I say as I jump up to the first hold.

“Oh? There’s embarrassing ones? What is it with you and climbing things?”

I scale up to the next one, but my shoes aren't the best for this sort of thing. 

"I like danger," I say, grinning down at him.

“I don’t know why you like me then,” he says, half serious and half joking. “I’m the furthest from danger.”

"Says the one who got chomped by a leopard  _ and  _ a dog," I say, launching myself up to grab a small ledge and swinging.

“That was just this month!” He says joyfully. “There’s been worse!”

I almost lose my grip. "Worse?!"

“Dog got me on the leg once, laid me up for a couple weeks! Then there was the snake…”

I start climbing down, and jump the last six feet. 

“Aww, why’d you stop?” He says, watching me drop cat-like in my hooker heels.

"What, liked the view?" I tease, before stepping closer and laying a hand on his cheek. "I worry about you."

“Yeah, you have a nice butt,” he says matter-of-factly. “Why do you worry about me?”

"Only you-" I say, pointing at him, "-look cute while saying my butt is nice, and then asking a deep-as-hell question."

He looks up, trying to work his way through the statement. “I think that was a compliment?”

I nod. "I worry because your job is  _ dangerous." _

“ _ Your _ job is dangerous! You’re a firefighter! You… you fight fires!” 

I shrug. "Tomato, tomahto."

“All I do is deal with some animals on their worst days, okay? You… you  _ save _ people.”

"Not all of them," I say quietly.

“But you do your best,” he says. “That’s all that matters.”

"You think so?" I say softly, looking up at him.

“Your best is all you can do.”

"You're my best."

And I reach up to kiss him again. He kisses me back. And it’s simple. And it’s the best. 

* * *

_ Shut your mouth and run me like a river _

**February 26, 2020** **   
** **0025 Hours** **   
** **LITE Chicago** **   
** **Mouse**

We finally make it back to the table, and I point at Crockett. 

“You, sir, are a master.”

He just smiles at me lazily. 

"I am no such thing."

I melt into the couch, nearly falling on Crockett’s lap. “She wears me out.”

Kate points at Crockett, though, with an accusatory hand. “You! How much have you drank?!”

He thinks, still staring at her. "Four. And a shot."

She grabs my whiskey and downs it in one go. “We’re even. You and I, boy. You and I. Drink off. Right now. I’m gonna drink you under the damn table, N’awlins.”

"Oh, Gerwitz, you can try. Good luck with it." He stares her in the eyes, and he looks almost ready to fight her.

Raz and Kelley finally make it back in from… wherever they were, and Kate immediately turns her gaze to Raz. 

“You. You’re a precious bean with absolutely zero bias, and Kelley, you’re both our sister, one of you flip a coin. Crockett, I’ll even defer to you to call it. Winner picks the shots.”

Raz hastily pulls out a coin and passes it to Kelley. 

"Really? I gotta flip?" She grumbles, but smiles at him. She gets ready, and then it's in the air and in her hand.

"Heads," Crockett hums.

She pulls her hand and Raz checks it. 

“Tails. Goes to Kate.”

Kate does a fist bump with Raz and Kelley, then flips her hair dramatically while she addresses Kelley.

“What’s Crockett’s most hated drink?”

She giggles. "It's a tie between Jager bombs and Fireballs."

Crockett just sticks his tongue out at her.

“Oh, fuck Jager bombs. But whiskey? Whiskey is my jam.”

I shake my head. I know how this is going to end. Both of them are going to be puking. “Kate, remember the last time you drank Fireball?”

“Nope!”

“Exactly my point!”

Kate then, in her usual way, pulls a wad of cash out of her dress. When did she even put it in there?! 

She starts counting it out, looking even more delighted as she makes stacks of one hundreds.

“Crockett, my boy, we hit the jackpot!” She says. “He was gonna have a busy night. That’s four grand—”

“ _ Kate. _ ” I say. “That’s…. I’m pretty sure that’s grand larceny.”

“I left him a couple hundreds,” she says. “How the hell is he going to remember if he spent it or not?”

“You scare me. You scare me a whole helluva a lot,” I mutter. 

“I’m giving this to Raelynn. She’s the most trustworthy one of us all. She’s going to take her cut for the bar tab, and then whoever gets one more shot than the other gets the rest. Do we have an accord?”

Crockett just smiles serenely. "Deal. Hit me."

Kate holds out her hand for a handshake. 

He takes it. "It was nice knowin' you, Kate."

“I’ll speak of you fondly at the Irish wake I’ll throw for you.”

"I'll personally carry your casket so I can let you down one last time," he mutters under his breath.

“You can never let me down, Crockett Marcel,” Kate whispers, kissing his cheek. “Raz!” She yells. “Kelley! Retrieve the Fireball and the shot glasses!”

Raz is laughing hysterically, still grasping onto Kelley.

“You’ve got some lipstick on your face, brother,” I say, gesturing to my own mouth. 

“I’m sure I do!” He says gleefully.

Crockett turns around to look at the two of them, and mouths something to Kelley. She rolls her eyes at him. 

"Piss off, 'Kett."

Crockett looks at me helplessly. I shrug. 

“I’m sorry. This is just how she is. And I love her for it.”

Raelynn leans forward, clutching onto Crockett’s arm. “I cannot believe she spent  _ eight years _ in the Army.” 

We both look out to where Kate has found herself: dancing at the edge of the dance floor, waiting for Kelley and Raz to make it back. She’s shed her jacket and  _ damn _ . 

Crockett tosses back the glass of water in front of him, filling the glass again with the pitcher he must have gotten at some point. "I can believe it," he says to her. 

He looks at me, smiling.

As he watches Kate, he shifts in his chair, chewing his lip.

“Are you nervous?” I ask. Raelynn just giggles a little, her attention between Kate’s lack of inhibitions and dance moves and Crockett’s worried gaze.

He shakes his head. 

I lean into him, looking from him to my wife. “I love you, man, but she might actually kick your ass."

He smiles. "I'm aware," he admits, fiddling with the edge of his jacket. "I'll regret this tomorrow."

“She’s gotta teach tomorrow!” I say gleefully. “I might sit in just to enjoy the shitshow!”

Kate is back at the table, pulling back her hair as Raz delivers two shot glasses and the coveted battle drink. Quickly, I switch to the other side, next to Raelynn, so she and Crockett can sit next to each other. 

“Rules of engagement,” she starts. “One, we shoot together. We breathe, and we both decide when we’re getting the next one. Two, tap out when you’re done, and the other wins by taking one more shot. Got it?”

"Oui, Kaitlyn," he says, winking. "Laissez les bons temps rouler, darlin'."

“You know what, Crockett?” She says. I shake my head, knowing this is a bad idea, but I take the shots and fill them to the brim before pushing them towards the two idiots. Kate wraps her fingers around one. “Laissez les bons temps rouler.”

"Do you even know what it means, O Irish one?" He raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Let the good times roll, baby, I’m not a complete idiot,” she says. “Sláinte, bitch!”

She clinks her shot glass against Crockett’s, takes a deep breath and shoots back the Fireball. 

He does the same, and then slams the shot glass down, eyes watering. Kate just giggles, looking at Crockett with a smirk. 

“Wish you would’ve won that coin toss now, dontcha, laddie?”

"I regret my existence," he says, staring at the glass. 

She pushes her shot glass towards me, and I refill it, then refill his, leaning over the table a little more. 

“Remember, Marcel,” she says, whispering close to his face. “You started this. You challenged me to this, almost exactly eight months ago. I’ve been training for this, Marcel. Your ass is mine.”

"Actually," he drawls. "I'm savin' it for her," he points at Raelynn without thinking, staring instead at the glass.

Raelynn nearly spits out her own drink, then has to wipe her chin. Raz just hands her a napkin. 

“Your Grace.”

She busts out laughing again. 

“Well, Crockett, I, for one, am very glad you’re saving your ass for me.”

That must be the moment he realizes what he's said, and he gives her a tentative smile before sighing. "I'm not wasted enough to deal with this."

Kate says ‘cheers’, but it’s decidedly not English this time. I recognize the Pashto phrase. Now that one, I know. She holds up her shot glass and waits for Crockett.

He smiles at her, and repeats it, tapping his glass to hers. She shoots it like a pro. I’m not sure I know this side of her, but Raz is seal clapping when Kate slams the glass against the table again.

Crockett is spluttering, and he tries to breathe. "I hate whiskey."

“But I love you!” Kate says. And with an immediate mood shift, she turns to Kelley and Raz. ‘Where the hell did you two go?”

Kelley squeals, running to hide under Raz's good arm. He just gives us a wide grin. I take a napkin and wipe the lipstick from his face. 

“Dude, you’ve got a hickey. Good luck hiding that.”

Kelley gets on her toes to whisper to him, but it's loud enough to hear. "Yeah, forgot about that, sorry."

“I didn’t!” he says with the enthusiasm of a fourteen year old boy. 

To be that innocent again, I swear.

“Another!” Kate cries. 

“Calm the fuck down, Thor, I’m comin’,” I say, pouring their third shots. She already has hers in her hand when she leans forward.

“That’s what  _ I  _ said,” she stage-whispers. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting in bar bathrooms,” I stage-whisper back. Raelynn manages to snort her drink again. I don’t look away from my wife as I hand her doctoral advisor a napkin.

“Do they do this often?” Raelynn asks Crockett. 

"Yep."

He picks up the shot, almost glaring at it. "Oh, I hate this."

She draws a breath through her teeth. 

“Babe, what the hell are you doing?”

“If I breathe in beforehand, I can pretend I’m a dragon!”

“She’s done,” Raz says. “She’s drunk.”

“Oh, honey, she’s been drunk,” I say back. “This is just... “

“Crockett, you wanna do the toast this time?” She says, the color rising bright red in her cheeks.

He snorts, and almost starts giggling. "Okay, it's weird, okay?"

She traces her fingers over his jaw. “We’re weird, Crockett,” she tries to whisper. “Tonight’s already weird. Bring it on.”

He giggles again. "Gonna wave the glass around, just mirror me, okay?" 

“No spillage, no cheating, and no… voodoo,” She says, pointing a finger close to his face.

"Not my style, darlin'. Okay. Okay," he says, ready to giggle. "Okay. Arriba, abajo, al centro. Y adentro‐ ¡Salud!" He waves the glass up, down, around, and takes the shot. Kate struggles to mirror it, breathes in, and shoots the damn whiskey.

“The fuck was that?” I ask. 

“‘Up, down, health for all of you, gulp it down, to your health’, essentially,” Raelynn immediately translates. 

Crockett turns to her, eyes wide. "¿Hablas espanol? ¿Mi amor?"

Raelynn spouts off something that’s much more complicated than my high school Spanish, and it’s enough to make Crockett blush.

Kate is pounding her fist on the table, so I pour the fourth one.

“How you guys doin’?” I ask. Kate shows no signs of slowing down. Kelley and Raz have retreated to the corner of the dance floor, where they can monitor the situation but also… well, grind on each other in whatever teenage wasteland they’ve found. I watch for a second, almost confused. Lord, I don’t understand those two.

“Inner monologue!” Kate cries, snapping her fingers in front of my face. 

Crockett snorts. "Bring it."

“L’chaim!” Kate crows gleefully, shooting down their fourth shot. It’s really disgusting. I’m going to have to try to pull her out of that corset later when she can’t even stand up. Damn. She’s gonna be so drunk…. Well, I guess we did fuck in the bathroom already. We’ve got that going for us.

Crockett's eyes are watering. "Vile," he mutters. "Vile whiskey. Bad. No. Another."

Kate cups his face in her hand, forcing him to look at her. 

“Oh, darlin’,” she says, drawling a little. “Remember what happened earlier. I took four grand off of a guy because he couldn’t say no to a woman. You can give up at any time, N’awlins.”

He shakes his head. "I will do this. And I will die like a man. A very, very stubborn, drunk one."

Five. Shot number five. 

“Crockett, your cheers, baby,” she says, sounding more and more like a frat boy. Not a sorority girl. A frat boy. I did not stutter.

He giggles, and he lays his head on the table for a second. "You're testin' my languages."

“I could sing all of  _ Ho, Ro, The Rattlin’ Bog _ , right now, like a sobriety test. And I would nail it.”

"I won't challenge you, because you will," he mutters, then raises the glass, saying something that sounds… vaguely Indian.

Kate shoots it, and this one, she rests her mouth on her hand before setting her shot glass down. 

“That one… Hindi, right?” She finally musters. 

He nods from where his hands are over his eyes. 

“Crockett, you okay?” Raelynn says, reaching out and touching his arm. “You can stop at any time, you know.”

His head comes up. "Another," he wheezes. I pour them immediately. Kate looks at hers with determination. 

“N’awlins, you can stop at any time, you know,” Kate says, repeating Raelynn’s words. “You’ll just lose. You’ll lose hard. And I will have this forever over you, that I am the Queen of the Carnival, and I can drink more than you.”

He nods. "I lose, I will. I know it. But I go down in a blaze of glory. Toast us through, darlin'."

She throws her arm around his shoulders. 

“Fad saol agat, gob fliuch, agus bás in Éirinn,” She musters, clinking her glass against his. This one I know. This one makes me giggle, and she says it again in English. 

“Long life to you, a wet mouth, and death in Ireland.”

And she takes the shot like a champ. 

Crockett slams the glass on the table, and shakes his head. "God, I'm… one more," he whispers, glaring through watering eyes at Kate.

“Crockett, I have no more toasts,” she says. “My tongue is numb. I have no more toasts. Crockett, I have no more.”

"I do," he says hoarsely.

Kate pushes her shot glass towards me again. 

“Kel! Raz!” I call out. “They might die, so you might want to see this.”

Kelley comes  _ sprinting. _

Crockett shoves his glass towards me. I give him a look, but I fill both of them up. The bottle is three quarters of the way gone. I’m starting to worry.

“You guys sure you don’t want to call for a draw? You’ve made your point,” Raelynn tries.

“No,” Kate says. “We don’t do draws. We fight and die like men.”

Crockett nods, lifting his glass with a hand that I'm not sure anyone else could tell is shaking, but I know him.

He lifts it, then says slowly, "Bas al a ma ti," then throwing it back.

Kate does hers, although I know she’s feeling it. And she’s feeling it hard.

Crockett suddenly groans, leaning his head in his hands. "I'm done. I'm… I'm done. I'm out."

“Can you say that louder?” Kate says. “I’m not being a dick, I just literally couldn’t hear what you said and I’m hoping you said what I thought you said.”

“To win, you’ve still got to take another shot,” Raz adds.

“You’re a fuckin’ narc!” Kate yells.

Crockett just keeps his head in his hands, but shifts so he can watch Kate with one eye.

“Hit me.”

“Kate,” I chide.

She glares at me. “I have to be Queen. I am the Queen.”

“Yes, baby, you’re the Queen, but when the Queen is puking out Fireball in one to eight hours, she’s not going to feel very royal.”

“Pour the shot, Gerwitz.”

I do as she says. She’s not gonna let me do it otherwise.

She takes a deep breath, and I know she’s about at her limit. This one might just send her over. 

“If I die a fiery death, Kelley, you get all the embarrassing pictures of Mouse in the envelope in my jewelry box.”

Kelley looks both scared and excited. "Hell yeah," she says, nudging Raz.

Without a toast, Kate just looks at the shot glass, knocks it back, and turns her shot glass upside down on the table top.

“I’m never drinking again.”

Crockett nods. "Good… good idea. Excuse me," he mutters, stumbling up. I’m on my own feet, pulling him aside and away from the table. 

“You good, man? You gotta go puke?”

"More like curl up on the cold floor, then possibly puke, yeah," he whispers, his hand wrapping around his stomach. "Not drinkin' ever again."

“You’ll say that next time, buddy,” I say. I look back, and Kate’s got her face on the disgusting table while Raelynn rubs her back. She glances to me and gives me a quizzical look. I shake my head once. “What the hell were you thinkin’? You knew she was gonna beat you, whether she could do it or not.”

"It's fine," he mutters, leaning on me. "Wasn't thinkin'."

“Dude, you’re incredibly wasted, and you’re in pain. We should have done this when you were more healed up.”

He shrugs. "I am a moron, I'm aware. I did hold off on the painkillers, so there's no chance of interaction."

“That’s not the point, man. Maybe we need to wrap this night up. Get you home. Kate’s gonna last about, oh, another half hour, hour tops before she’s either passed out or puking. She’s probably already blacked out. Lord, we’re gettin’ too old for this shit,” I mutter.

"First," Crockett mutters. "First, at least another half hour. Second, I'm older."

“Not by much, brother, not by much. I guess her and I went to war in our twenties, still tryin’ to get it out of our systems, seriously, you’ve gotta take it easy. You don’t want to bust any of your stitches or anything.”

He looks back to the table, then shakes his head at me. "Keep your voice down," he hisses.

“You never told Raelynn?” I whisper, turning my back to her. 

"No! It didn't need to come up."

“Somethin’s gonna come up if you’re not careful.”

"Too late of a warning," he mutters, resting his head on my shoulder. "Help me get steady so I don't go down right here."

I wrap my arm around his waist and lock my elbow so I know I’ve got him. 

“I’ve got you. I could carry you to the bathroom, if you needed me to. I did the Nas—”

“You did the Nasty Nick in a snowstorm, I know, I know,” Crockett mutters. "For once, I'll take you up on that."

“Got you, bud,” I say, pulling his arm around my shoulders. I try to keep him steady, while also not just straight up throwing him over my shoulders. “Girls, Raz, we will return,” I call back to the table. 

“Tell Crockett ‘fuck you’,” Kate says, her voice muffled from its location against the table.

"Tell her 'Maybe in a month'," Crockett hisses back.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep!” Kate calls out. Raelynn glances to Raz. He just shrugs. 

"Mouse," Crockett murmurs. "Let's go. Like, now," he giggles, and it sounds like he's regretting life. I’ve got almost all his body weight on me as we head to the bathroom. 

"Thanks."

"I've got you, brother."

"Jerk."

"Dumbass."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

* * *

_Don't say, don't you say it, one breath, it'll just break it_

**February 26, 2020** **   
** **0112 Hours** **   
** **LITE Chicago** **   
** **Raelynn**

While the show Crockett just performed was quite entertaining, I try to see where Mouse is taking him after that conversation. He may have thought he was safe in the loud club. I should have been more truthful in the fact that I can read lips. 

So what the bloody hell did he never tell me?

Regardless, I take the bottle of Fireball and drink it straight from the bottle.

“Shouldn’t do that without Crockett watching,” Kate mutters. 

“You’ve already awakened something in me I thought was long gone, so I’m sure he’ll have time to see it again,” I say. 

Crockett slowly makes his way back, not necessarily leaning on Mouse but an arm around him anyways. 

He smiles at him, and then drops into his seat. 

"Ladies," he greets us before he smiles at me.

“How’re you doin’?” I ask, my fingers still circled around the Fireball bottle. 

Mouse slides into the booth next to Kate. He immediately starts running his hand over her back. She moans loudly. 

Crockett bypasses me for a second, an apologetic smile. "Kate, you okay, darlin'?"

“I’m not gonna puke,” she says. “Not gonna puke. Mouse, I’m not gonna puke. Why? Why did we do this?” She lifts her head from the table, and then leans back against Mouse as she tries to regain her sense of balance. “Crockett, why are you and I locked in an existential battle against our heritages? Why?!”

He snorts a laugh. "I regret challenging the Irish Queen," he teases.

“Don’t you forget it!” She slurs. “Mouse, I’m gonna puke now.”

“Let’s go,” he sighs, nearly picking her up and giving me a wide-eyed look. At this point, Crockett and Kate have completely lost it. 

Typical, I believe. I don’t mind. It was entirely amusing, and Crockett looks at least a touch better.

He turns back to me presently, smiling. 

"How are you? You asked me somethin' and I don't remember what it was."

“Just asked you how you were,” I say, tapping my fingers on the Fireball bottle. “You know. The whole drinking contest left you a little under the weather.”

He shrugs, but his smile seems a bit fixed. "I'm… first time I've been drinkin' in a while. "

“Me too,” I say, and I take the delicious opportunity to take a long drink from the bottle of Fireball.

He watches me, settling back before he gives me a wide smile. God, it settles down deep in my stomach, and I feel it deep. 

“You know, Kate wasn’t wrong about feeling like a dragon,” I chuckle. 

He nods quickly. "Oh yeah. Ohh yeah. Burns its way right down," he mutters. "Listen, Rae."

“Yes, my dear?”

He shivers. "First of all, yes. That's a good name, I like it. Second," he stumbles to his feet, holding out a hand to me. "Dance with me, darlin' girl."

“One moment,” I say, taking another long drink from the bottle. “Now I’m ready.”

He takes my hands, pulling me to the dance floor and spins me around, and he's chuckling. 

“You’re gonna regret all that whiskey in the morning,” I say, spinning into him.

"Darlin', why wait? I regret it right now."

I think back to what Mouse had asked him. Apparently, it’s something he doesn’t want me to know, but I have to make sure he feels alright.

“Are you sure… are you sure you’re feeling alright?” I ask. “Seriously.”

He looks at me, slightly confused as he twirls me again. "Why wouldn't I be?"

“You know,” I try to backtrack. “The drinking. The puking.”

He just hums. Oh, he’s not going to answer, not now, not when he’s trying to impress me. I turn around and grasp his hands, slipping them on my hips.

He pulls me close, his lips on the back of my neck. "You… you're wonderful," he mutters, almost breathless as his hands hold me close.

“You’re drunk,” I say back, but I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t know if I like the version of myself he’s helped to reawaken. I’ve missed her. She’s been gone for too long.

He pulls me closer, and guides my hands upwards. His lips are moving across the back of my neck, and he hums into me.

The words are at my lips, they want to come out,  _ Crockett, take me home _ , but I can’t. I can’t, because I don’t want to ruin this. This is too good, this is too... _ bad _ , and I can’t ruin it. 

But I want to ruin it so badly. I do.

His hand strays from my hip to my stomach, pulling me closer, and he almost giggles, leaning his head on mine.

“You’re… you’re insufferable,” I say, feeling his hot breath against my skin. God, I want him. Not yet. Don’t fuck this up. You can’t. Not this one.

His lips find my ear, and he chuckles lowly as his tongue darts out to trace my earlobe. "I try," he whispers into me. I shudder at his touch, and I put my hands over his, still resting on my stomach. I pull him closer to me, if I could even be closer. 

"What do you want, darlin'?" He says, still working on my ear. "Tell me what I can do."

I open my mouth to answer, but I can’t. The fractures of my good sense stop my tongue. The images of my possible future flash through my eyes, but I can’t. Although he’s tempting. He’s so tempting. I want his hands on me. I do. I just… I can’t.

I pull my hair away from my neck, I turn over my shoulder to look at him. My eyes dart between his eyes and his lips. 

He smirks. Message received. 

He pulls my chin from where I'm looking over my shoulder and his lips crash into mine. His hands spin me around and yank me into him, one slipping down my waist to hold me.

It takes everything in me not to take him off this damn dance floor. Control yourself. Control. That’s the name of the game: control. 

I slide my hand under his jacket, grab a handful of his shirt. My fingers graze skin.

He shudders into me, and he deepens the kiss, nipping at my lip as he tries to pull me closer. I don’t know how we could get any closer.

Well, no, I do.

Stop. Stop, breathe, control.

I grip tighter, almost desperately, I want his hands all over me. I want his hands. 

Control. I… I’m losing control.

His hand on my waist slips a bit, and his other hand comes up to the back of my neck as he runs his tongue along my lip. He's almost gasping into the kiss, but he's playing with my lip and it's  _ distracting.  _

"What can I do?" He says into my lips. "Tell me."

“Don’t stop,” is all I can murmur. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He giggles. "Good, because I don't want to," he says, lips on my jaw as he rolls his hips into me.

I lean back my head, and it’s all I can to breathe. I just want his hands on me. I want them on my skin.

His lips chase my neck, landing where I've left open, and he slips a hand around my waist, looping his fingers into my belt loop. "Rae," he whispers, and it's breathy, like he can't stop himself. "Rae," he says again, and this time he pulls back.

I try not to voice my displeasure, I don’t want him to leave, but I run my hand over his jaw and rest my forehead against his.

"Rae, c'mere," he mutters, pulling me to a relatively uncrowded corner. I’m aching for him, I want him, but he seems distracted. I am too, by his mussed hair, by the jacket, by his  _ everything _ .

He spins me so we're facing and he backs me into a table. 

"Stop me at anytime," he murmurs. 

I can’t say anything. I don’t want to, and frankly, I shouldn’t have to. I slide my hands around him, chasing his skin with my fingertips.

His hands slide down me, brushing my hips and then locking under my thighs as he lifts me, and he sits me on the table in front of him.

I pull him into me, wrapping my legs around him. I can’t. We shouldn’t. But I can’t stop. 

I grab his collar and stop just before I kiss him. 

He stares at me, then his hands land on the table on either side of me as he groans, hunching over.

“Crockett, you okay?” I say, my voice breaking. I reach for his face, pulling him back up. “You okay? Maybe we should cool our jets a little bit, yeah?”

He nods, turning so he's leaning against the table beside me with a quiet whine. "Let it be known," he says, his eyes closed, "I do not think things through when I'm drunk."

“Perhaps, another day, you can think things through when you’re sober and come to the same conclusion.” I shouldn’t, but I feel almost thankful for his restraint. 

He turns to look at me, still bracing himself on the table. "I will," he says softly. "I have," he whispers under his breath, and I don't think I'm meant to hear it. That’s fine. He doesn’t have to know I’ve already thought about it. After last night, after tonight. 

“Maybe we should find Kate and Mouse,” I say. “She did not look good upon her quick exit.”

"Kate," he mutters. "Too much whiskey. Need to… shit." He shoves himself off the table, wobbling, but he reaches a hand out to help me off. I take it, sliding off, wrapping my arm around his waist.

“We may be getting too old for this kind of behavior,” I say. “We’re doctors, ‘Kett. We should be… wearing sweaters with elbow pads and drinking scotch, not shooting Fireball at a nightclub.” I make myself laugh, looking for the rest of our scattered crew.

He smiles at me. "I think that's a little too stuffy for my liking. I think I see Mouse and Kate."

When we approach, Kate is on her feet, dancing to a song that must be in her head, because she is not on the beat. “Crockett! Raelynn!” She cries out. “Guess what?”

“Don’t,” Mouse says, shaking his head. “Do not guess. Don’t.”

Crockett chuckles. "Kate, you're drunk."

“I puked!” She says gleefully. “That’s what. That’s the guess. Crockett, I would like to go to your apartment and sleep now.” She grabs her jacket from the table. “We have to find Kelley and Raz before they start fuckin’ in the alley.”

Mouse gestures to push Kate towards the two of us instead, and he looks to me. “Do you have that stack of stolen cash?”

I reach into my bra and pull it out, handing it to Mouse. He shakes his head, then takes it to go pay off our tab.

“Rae, you are so hot,” Kate breathes. “Crockett, isn’t she hot?”

He chuckles, his arm slipping around me. "Yes. Yes, she is. Very much. She's beautiful."

“And smart!” Kate scoffs. “But… but so are you, Crockett! Look at you. You’re the best. Isn’t he the best, Rae?”

“He is, in fact, the best,” I say with a chuckle. Perhaps I should hold up both of them. I pull Kate a little closer and she doesn’t fight me.

Crockett just hums some sort of mindless tune in his head, and he drops his head down to my shoulder.

“Lord, it’s like having children,” I mutter, as Kate leans into me too. She points her finger at Crockett. 

“And another thing! You are…. The kindest person I know. Did you see these, Rae?” She holds up her necklace. “He  _ made _ me this. He made it for me! ‘Kett, you're a good bean.”

He smiles at her, blushing. "You're a good bean."

“You’re the best. You’re simply the best!” She sings out. “You’re better than all the rest! I knew you two would be perfect for each other.”

Crockett snorts. "As if there was any question," he mutters, leaning back into me.

“What did I tell you?” Kate hisses. “Future Mrs. Crockett, right here! I’m not a complete dumbass! Not all the time!”

This time I can’t help but chuckle. Really? Future Mrs. Crockett? She’s thought  _ that far _ about it? I was just hoping to get through tonight without jumping him.

He smiles at me, raising his head off my shoulder. He gently kisses my forehead. "One day at a time," he chides Kate. 

“Does that mean you’ve thought about it too?” I ask him, brushing his hair back. “I mean, you’d barking mad to let go of a catch like me,” I tease.

"Oh hell yeah, hell yeah," he murmurs, leaning gently into my hand, his eyes closing. "Don't wanna let go."

“Don’t have to,” I whisper, kissing his head. “Oh, look, Mouse is back, and he brought friends!”

Kelley and Raz, who have apparently morphed into one being, appear behind Mouse as he rounds us up. 

“Alright, my children, let’s go,” he says, gesturing towards the front. “Lord, when did I become the responsible one?”

Crockett giggles. "The moment you married your wife."

“Damn right,” Kate says. “I’m a fuckin’ catch!” With that, she nearly drops into Mouse. He rolls his eyes. 

“You better be happy I fuckin’ caught you.”

Kelley, who's hanging off Raz, laughs. "That's what she means by a catch."

“I’m wrangling cats,” Mouse mutters. “Raz, can you help me just a little?”

Like a dutiful son, Raz takes Kate off his hands without letting go of Kelley, then pulls Crockett’s arm over his shoulders. 

“I’ve got him,” he says to me with a smirk. 

“I know you do,” I say, thinking back to the conversation I don’t think I was supposed to hear.

Crockett turns to Raz, a scandalized look on his face. 

"Mouse," he stage-whispers. "Raz has a hickey."

“Shh,” Mouse says, and we burst out into the freezing Chicago air. Kate gags a little. “Don’t worry about it. Kelley, check for the poor Uber driver.” He tosses her his phone.

Crockett leans into Mouse, snuggling into him. "Warm. Cozy," he hums.

Mouse almost absentmindedly just kisses him on the top of his head. “Soon, buddy.”

An SUV pulls up, and Kelley laughs. “Hey, Mouse, I think the Uber’s here.”

“Lord, give me strength,” he says to the sky. 


	32. Don't Give Up, It's a Little Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew and Crockett’s apartment bathrooms really need to stop meeting like this. As Mouse continues his tired suburban dad schtick making sure both his wife and adoptive brother have survived the night, Raz starts telling some of his own horror stories. And even though Raelynn made her exit early, the note she left told enough of the way she’s starting to fit into the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Snake Mention? Is that a thing? I'm marking it down.

_ I'd Hate to See You Waiting _

**February 26, 2020** **  
** **0942 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Mouse**

This entire room is cold. I wake up, a crick in my neck, and realize where I had landed last night—this morning?—the bathtub. Kate, on the other hand, is officially asleep with her head on the toilet. Quickly, I check that she’s okay, then snap a photo, and then try to wake her up.

“No,” she mutters. “Not now.”

“Babe. You gotta get up.”

“No. Refuse.”

“Alright, well, the toilet’s right there,” I say, kissing her forehead and stepping out into the apartment.

Kelley looks up at me from the couch. 

"Hey," she says quietly, stroking through Raz's hair where he's asleep on her lap.

“Didn’t even make it to the bed, did you?” I say quietly. “Need anything? You good?”

She shakes her head. "Can you check on 'Kett? I would but I don't wanna move."

I nod and head for the bedroom. The door is open, but cracked; I hesitate. Nah, he was way too drunk. Still, I knock on the door. 

“Hey, bro, you alive in there?”

There's a groan. "No more whiskey."

“You decent? Can I come in? Should I like, carry you to the toilet or something?”

"I'm dressed."

I push open the door, leaning on the door frame. 

He's sitting on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, and as the door opens, he looks up. "Hey, Mouse," he says quietly.

“Why don’t we get you someplace more comfortable?” I say, kneeling down on the floor in front of him. 

"Was stupid last night."

“You were brilliant last night.”

He closes his eyes. "Never drinkin' whiskey again."

“We all say that, bud,” I say, slipping my hands under his arms. “Up we go.”

"Gonna puke, Mouse," he says, a little panicked.

“To the bathroom, let’s go,” I mutter, nearly carrying him there. “Good thing y’all got more than one.”

He sinks to the floor, looking miserable. "Between the hangover and the lack of meds, I'm never doing this again."

I arrange him near the toilet, then slide down to the floor. “You know that ain’t true. Kate’s gonna challenge you again, or you’re gonna challenge Kate, and you’ll forget all about this shitshow because your pride’ll take over, makin’ you think you’re twenty three again.”

He sighs. "Maybe." He curls up on the floor. "I regret last night."

“This is fair. This is totally fair. What can I do for you, brother?”

"I need painkillers," he mutters, screwing his eyes shut. "Painkillers and a will to live."

“I can help with one. The other’s up to you.”

I’ve been in this apartment often enough to know where to go. I head for his bedside table, find the painkillers, grab him a glass of water, see a note on the counter addressed to him, wink at Kelley and bring it back to him. 

“Hey. I think Raelynn left you a note,” I say. 

He opens his eyes, but doesn't move from the floor. "Can I see it?"

“Painkillers first.”

He tries to sit up before hunching over the toilet, holding up a finger for me to wait as he gags.

“Okay, good call,” I say, setting both down on the floor. I head back to the counter, find the note, and grin at Kelley. 

“He swears he’s never drinking again.”

"Lies," she scoffs quietly. "Has he puked yet?"

I listen to the bathroom. “I think he’s in process. Have you heard anything from Kate?”

"A lot of bitching."

“Kate?” I call. “You good?”

“Fuck you!” It echoes into the toilet bowl. 

“Sounds about right,” I say to Kelley. I point to Raz. “He didn’t drink that much, I thought.”

"He didn't," she agrees. "I might've worn him out, though. Did you know kissing burns about two calories per minute?"

“You know, typically, I would say something snarky to annoy you, or make fun of you, but I think... “ I look at the kid still asleep on Kelley. “I’ve known Raz for a while now, and he’s always seemed to be on the fringes, you know? But I’ve always liked him. My point is, I think you’re good for him. And he’s good for you.”

She gazes at me, and I think her eyes are welling up. "Thanks, Mouse," she says quietly, beckoning me closer so she can kiss my cheek.

I do as she says, and I can feel my cheeks blush a little before I go to head back to Crockett. “That being said? Y’all are nasty. That touchy-feely shit? Makes me wanna gag.”

“Your face makes me wanna gag!” Kate calls out from the bathroom as she heaves again. I shudder. Breathe, Gerwitz. You barely drank. Sympathetic puker. Okay. Wyew.

I slip back into the bathroom with Crockett, holding the note. “You wanna read it, or do you want me to read it to you?”

"Read it to me, my head is showing me three of everything," he says quietly, downing the painkillers and the water.

“I ain’t doin’ the accent,” I grumble, then unfold the paper. “‘Crockett—thank you for an unforgettable evening.’ She’s underlined ‘unforgettable’ twice. ‘I am truly thankful to have you and your wonderful family in my life. I am deeply sorry for my quick exit, but I had to make it back to my place before class this morning. Speaking of class, please inform Kate that I am taking her Topics in Middle Eastern History course and her Middle East Since 1258 course for today. It’s the least I owe her for such a hilarious night. I hope you are feeling better than you did last night. Please let me know when you wake up. XOXO, Rae.’”

He blushes a bit.

"Well. She… wow. She's somethin', isn't she, Mouse?" He looks almost starry-eyed, as much as he can with a five-alarm hangover.

I wave the paper at him. “I swear to God, and—and Mary, and Joseph, and all the saints and angels in heaven, if you let her go, I will hurt you. In so many ways. It’ll hurt harder than that headache of yours. You hear me?”

He chuckles, looking up at me. "I don't plan on letting her go, Mouse. She's too amazing. I… I really do like her."

“I know you do. I do too. She’s a blast, and she’s sweet, and she’s bendin’ over backwards to make Kate’s doctoral program go smoothly. Just know that everyone’s got their shit, though. I keep tryin’ to remind Kelley of that, too. That honeymoon phase may pop, and all your dirty laundry’ll get aired, and make sure you both have a good enough foundation to come out on the other side, right?”

He nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I know," he says, hunching over again. "That reminds me. I didn't want her to know. That's why I haven't told her."

“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is you should eventually tell her. The timin’ is up to you.”

"There's no need for her to know," he grumbles.

“There definitely is, but I’m not gonna fight you when you’re like this,” I say. “You wanna get up? You good?”

He nods, and takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Let's… yeah let's go. Want to check on Kate."

“She’s physically here, but I think her soul left her body to be with her people on the Emerald Isle,” I mutter, pulling him to his feet. When we make it out, Kate has recreated her pose of last night by leaning her face on the kitchen counter while precariously perched on a barstool. 

"Kate," Crockett calls, snickering. 

She lifts her middle finger to him.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he says, detangling himself from me and stepping towards the coffee maker.

“I already started it, should be done soon,” she grumbles. 

"You angel," he says, instead wrapping his arm around her shoulders. 

“I love you,” she says, drawn out, but at a whisper. 

"Love you too, darlin'," he whispers back, starting to rub her shoulders.

“Kate, Rae said she was takin’ your classes today.”

“What?” She articulates, closing her eyes tightly when Crockett hits a knot. “I don’t have to teach?”

“No, babe.”

“If you don’t marry her, I will,” she whispers to Crockett. 

He chuckles, working out the knot. "First, you're married. She has a very very big stance on bigamy. So no. Second, give it a year."

“Deal,” she says. “Right there. Don’t stop.”

“And I’m out,” I say, turning to Kelley. “Raz ain’t awake yet?”

She snorts. "He's been awake for about five minutes, just listening, right honey?" She asks him, amused.

Raz just moans a little. “I’ve been awake,” he mutters, and starts to get up. “What can I do?”

“Lord, I don’t know,” I sigh. “Can’t have a repeat of New Years, that’s for sure.”

Crockett squawks at me. "We won't, so shut up about it!"

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Raz says. He almost looks like a butler, standing in front of Kate. 

Kelley just watches him, a soft smile on her face. 

Crockett keeps rubbing Kate's shoulders, kneading his fingers in. 

“I feel useless,” I finally say. “Crockett, should y’all like, get some water or… or Gatorade before coffee?”

He nods. "Gatorade sounds good."

Kelley's up like a shot, bolting for the fridge. "In here," she says.

I go for it, but then I stop. “Dammit, Kelley.”

"What? What the hell is wrong?"

Crockett shakes his head. "Oh no."

Kate groans. “No! No, no, no. No. No.”

Crockett chuckles, then keeps rubbing her back. "I'm sorry, Kate. I am sorry my sister has shitty taste."

“_ My _ sister is a little shit and knows I can’t drink the orange!” 

Kelley perches up on the counter, cracking one open, smiling. "I'm sorry, I forgot?"

“Youuuuu. You knew. Crockett, make her stop, ow, yes. There.”

“Can you please not make it sound so sexual? Y’all need to get it together. Also, without her here, I need details,” I say, turning to Crockett. “I need every detail about your date Monday.”

"Et tu, Mouse?" He sighs. His hands slip off Kate's back as he sits down next to her. "Really? We're doing this now?"

Kate lightly whines, glares at Kelley, and then Raz gets her a glass of water. “Yes, all of the details. Now.”

Crockett sighs. "Went to Trattoria No. 10. Had dinner. Talked. Went to the amusement park just north of there. Walked to the old tall ship. Had our first fight. Kissin'. Blah, blah, blah," he drawls, shaking his head. 

“Navy Pier,” Raz mutters. 

“First fight?” Kate says at the same time I say, “kissing?!”

"Yes!" Crockett says, pointing at Raz. "Shut up!" To both Kate and I.

“I just wanna know it went well,” Kate says, dropping her face down to the counter. 

Crockett giggles. "Yeah. Yeah it did." 

Kelley nods. "Mouse, smack him on the back of the head."

“I reserve the right to refuse that,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. 

“I’m hungry,” Kate says, stretching. “I need out of this outfit. Why did I never change? My ribs hurt. I’m hungry.”

Crockett flicks her ear. "I'm not yanking you out of the medieval torture chamber around your waist. Bad enough I helped put it on."

“Mouse!” She yells, then cringes. “Mouse,” she whispers. 

“Yes, darling.”

“Take me home so I can shower and get this corset off.”

“Fine, but I get to look at you first.”

"Hey, Tommy? I wanna know. What was one of the nuttiest calls you've had?" Kelley asks him, out of the blue. "I wanna know."

“This is a trap,” I say in a sing song voice. 

“Besides the leopard?” He asks.

"Yeah! You mentioned a couple last night, the dog, the snake…"

Kelley doesn't see the tiny shiver Crockett gets as he starts rubbing Kate's back again.

“Oh! You mean all my on the job injuries. The snake? That was one of the absolute worst. So. we got a call. Me and one of the other officers went. A neighbor in a condo, reporting what they thought was a gas leak. The… the hissing sound,” he giggles. “Fire went in, this was… this was before you got here, I think,” he says to Kelley, “Not your jurisdiction anyway. But they went in, and immediately realized that the guy? Aspiring herpetologist. It was… crazy, guys. I have never seen so many damn snakes anywhere.”

Crockett is pale, and he's frozen where he stands. 

Kelley is bouncing. "How many snakies do you think there were?"

"I swear, most of them were in their little boxes, but I don't know what the guy was doing beforehand, but it was bad, guys. First time I've ever seen a body," he says conversationally. “Had to have been at least fifty. We had to wrangle them all. You had your typical ones, you know, the ball python. They weren’t bad. They’ve got a nice camo coloring to them. Green snakes! They’re cute too. Corn snakes, milk snakes. Green tree pythons. He had a cuban boa, though, that was almost 16 feet long!”

"Oh, God," Crockett mutters, leaving Kate and sitting on the counter.

Kelley looks _ enthralled. _

"So what happened?"

Raz looks around the room and finally realizes he has the floor, and he starts to look nervous. “Well, uh… okay. So. We were inventorying these snakes, you know, trying not to disturb essentially a crime scene, but we knew that there were some loose. At least a fer-de-lance. Did you know the fer-de-lance’s venom can cause necrosis and kill entire limbs? Because I learned it real quick!”

I don’t even know how to take this. Kate just blinks at him. He’s talking about a guy’s death-by-snake like it wasn’t, well, Ash Wednesday.

Crockett pulls me close, resting his head on my shoulder as Kelley's eyes grow wide. 

“Thought we were doing okay, and then I felt like, a burning on my leg?” He says, gesturing down. “At first I was like, yeah, okay, but then I’m like, shit, if I don’t check, I could become like the guy who looked at the Ark of the Covenant on the floor, right? So, I look down, and she’s there. The most beautiful Black Mamba I’ve ever seen. She didn’t mean to. She didn’t like me, and I was too close to her, you know? So I grabbed for her, but she’s about six feet long, and I get my partner and we get her bagged and tagged and almost immediately all I could taste was metal. She got me, and she got me good.”

Kelley is staring at him, and her voice is quiet as she says, "What did you do?"

“Oh, we had fire and police there, monitoring the scene, so immediately I got rushed out. It was crazy, though. Everything felt like pins and needles. You know that venom attacks your nervous system, right? As soon as I got in the ambo—the ambulance,” he says sheepishly, looking to Kelley, “I already could barely see, couldn’t speak. Apparently I almost stopped breathing on the way to Gaffney!”

She gasps. "Tommy! What- oh my God."

Crockett burrows into me, grumbling. Kate is just…. Silent. 

“I woke up about four days later. Went into a coma. They thought my leg was gonna be paralyzed, but they caught it early enough. Tried to tear out my ventilator, but it was a good thing Becky was there. She was the only one I would listen to.”

“Becky?” Kate asks quietly. 

“Oh, my twin,” Raz says. 

“There are two of you?!” I find myself saying.

“She’s older,” Raz says, shrugging. “Ten minutes. But yeah. Survived a black mamba bite in the middle of Chicago! That’s my worst story? I think.”

Kelley slips off the counter and moves to hug him. "You beautiful man, I'm glad you're okay."

He looks a little shocked, but hugs her back. “You asked for this story. Crockett, are you okay?”

Crockett's buried his face in my shoulder, and he's shaking as he reaches up to flip Raz off. 

“Oh, God! Do you not like snakes?” Raz exclaims.

He mutters something into my shoulder, and I can't quite make it out. 

Kate just pats his shoulder. 

"I lived in New Orleans and helped with Katrina disaster relief, it's safe to say I don't like snakes," he says, hiding his face again.

“I’m so sorry, Crockett,” he says almost ashamed. 

I reach forward and clasp my hand on Raz’s shoulder, still holding onto Crockett.

“No worries, brother. No worries.”

Raz’s face just brightens. I wonder if it was something I said.


	33. 5 Years, 20 Years, Come back, It Will Always Be the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett gets a little more than he bargained for when he visits Mouse—or rather, Specialist Gerwitz—at drills. The man he thought he knew changes before his eyes as he runs the course designed for kids at the fittest point in their lives, so of course Crockett has to try. But as they head off for breakfast, both Mouse and Crockett share a bit more than they expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicide Mention.

_ I've got you brother _

**February 28, 2020** **   
** **0834 Hours** **   
** **University of Illinois — Chicago** **   
** **Crockett**

I'm not really sure where I need to go. I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and I turn around. And then I see the group of people. 

And there's yelling. 

I'm curious, naturally, so I move closer, and I chance a look at the guy yelling orders at these kids. 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _

That's  _ Mouse. _

I stand off to the side, watching. I'll try not to interrupt him.

“What the  _ hell  _ is taking you so long? My ninety-three year old grandma can move faster than you, and she escaped Poland in 1939! Run like the fuckin’ Nazis are on your ass! Yes, there! Go!” He starts clapping out a beat, and the kids seem to go infinitesimally faster.

How the…. This is not the Mouse I know. This is Specialist First Class Gerwitz. 

Is it weird that I'm excited for more?

He's just… yelling at these kids, and I'm loving it. 

Once, just once, I'd like to hear him… nope. Don't go there, Marcel. Don't do that.

I stand back, just watching.

“That was abysmal!” He cries. “You think you can get through basic like this?! Jesus, I was almost paralyzed and I could run it faster.” 

And then he sees me. 

I'm floored. That's borderline hot. Screw that. It's hot.

Wait, almost paralyzed? How did I not know this? I knew about the wheelchair, but- 

File away for later. 

Mouse. Focus on Mouse.

“Dr. Marcel!” he calls out in this very unfamiliar, booming voice. “You think you could do a favor for me?”

"Yes, sir!" 

He gestures with his head to come over, but I can see from the smirk on his face he’s already enjoying this entirely too much. 

I step closer, and I wish I knew to actually find out what this 'favor' was before I agreed to it.

“This is my friend Dr. Marcel. He’s a trauma surgeon. Which some of you might need by the time I’m done with you.” With that… taunt, he tosses me a stopwatch. “I don’t trust any of you to do this, so I’m going to use him. Now, I’m going to show you what a decent time is on the course.”

He smirks at me.

"Oh, shit, okay," I say, fumbling with the stopwatch. "Ready?"

He tosses me his hat first. He’s enjoying this entirely too much.

I catch it and hold it under my arm. "Set?"

“Question is, are you ready?” He calls to me and winks.

I smile. "I am."

He steps aside, a couple steps away from the first part of the course and gives me a head nod.

"Ready, set, go!"

Oh good. I have a legitimate reason to stare at him.

He hauls ass towards the first obstacle. It looks like a log, but it’s almost taller than he is—but he grabs it, and he deadlifts himself on top of it, then basically somersaults over it.

Maybe in my younger days, I could…. Never mind. I couldn't do that.

Two, three steps, and he drops to his stomach. The barbed wire never even touches his camo.

Well. Couldn't do that either, damn.

When he pulls himself out of the dirt, he runs for what looks like a set of gymnast bars, but he heaves himself up so he’s standing, jumps up to grab the top log, and hoists himself over, grabbing the log, spinning and dropping. He regains more speed before he launches himself onto the rope and uses his momentum to swing up to the wall. He jumps to the ground and completes a roll on the dirt before jumping to his feet. And then it’s the last one. A fifteen foot high wall. He’s got a bit of a ways to get there, and he takes it at a dead sprint. His jump takes him at least halfway, climbs hand over hand, and then deadlifts himself over the top. He takes the time to salute me while he’s at the top, then jumps straight down, popping back up.

How the hell am I supposed to equate the sweet, dorky, borderline clumsy man I know with… this soldier in front of me? 

I almost wonder if I really even know him. 

What was he like, overseas? 

I realize I did stop the clock, and I hold it up to him, still shocked to all holy hell. 

"Gerwitz, here you go, sir," I say, passing it to him. He brushes back his hair, barely out of breath, as he takes the stopwatch and his hat. 

“Hmm,” he says, looking down at the clock, “Not bad. Not my best, though. They don’t need to know that.” 

He takes the stopwatch back to the line of ROTC kids and makes each of them look at the time in turn.

“So. You think you could beat my time? Looks like you’re gonna be doing this again. Time to do laps.”

There’s not even a question. They just… start running around the perimeter of the green space. 

And he approaches me, arms crossed over his chest. 

“How’d you like the show?”

I don't even know what to tell him. 

"How come you never use that voice around me?" I accuse, bumping my shoulder to his.

He watches the kids run, makes sure they’re on the other side of the park, and leans closer. “Because you haven’t earned that voice yet.”

"Well, mark me down as scared  _ and  _ horny," I drawl teasingly.

“Now you know how I feel when you do… what you do,” he says, gesturing vaguely at me with his hand. He draws a heavy breath and then a booming voice comes out:

“I’m gonna make you run all mornin’ if you’re gonna skip along like Polly Pocket!”

I snort, turning my back to the others as I laugh. 

"You always this hard on them?"

“This?” He scoffs. “This is  _ nice _ . My training officer at basic… I’m being kind. Kate would say I’m being too nice. Setting them up for a rude awakening. But hey, don’t want to freak them out too badly, you know?”

"You're a…" I drop my voice to make sure they don't hear me. "You're a good man, Greg Gerwitz."

“Eh,” he says, walking along the course. “Debatable. Whatchya doin’ here? How did you find me?” He asks, grabbing the rope for one part of the course. 

"First, Kate told me where to go. Second," I hesitate. "Wondered if you wanted to meet up after, food or coffee or somethin'."

“Food would be fantastic,” he says out of the side of his mouth. “These kids wear me out.” And just like that, he’s climbing hand over hand up the rope. “They still goin’?” 

I stare up the rope. Makes me want to try, as stupid as that is. "That's tall."

He heaves himself up onto the upper pole, sitting. Just… sitting. He holds on, but calls out. “Another lap! Go, go, go!” And then looks down to me. “You wanna try it once I finish with them?”

"Oh hell yeah," I say, and I think I sound more confident than I feel.

“I’ll teach you how to properly do it,” he calls down. “No timer. If you wanna try it again with the timer, you can. But I want you to be safe. You’re still healin’, brother.”

He checks his watch, then hooks his ankles and cups his hands around his mouth. He manages to keep his balance, despite everything I know about the man.

“Drills are over, get the hell outta here!” 

The exhausted bunch fall out of position, mostly out of breath.

I survey them, and then look up to where Gerwitz is just… perched. 

Damn, he and Kelley really are alike.

“Alright. You saw how I did it, right? I’m gonna walk you through it.” He squints. “We might skip the barbed wire one. Don’t want to get you all dirty.”

I stare at the barbed wire one. Thank God. It bothers me from this distance, there's no way in hell I'm crawling under that pokey shit.

Mouse grasps the wood bar he was sitting on with both hands, and starts to slip backwards. He somehow nearly somersaults until he’s hanging off the bar, and then jumps down the rest of the way, dusting off his hands and picking up his hat where it had fallen to the ground.

“Alright, let’s do this!” He says joyfully. 

Well, shit. I'm in the presence of a master. 

I shed my jacket, then look at him. "Okay, what the hell am I doing?"

He jogs to the beginning of the course. “Alright. So . The belly buster. Best way to do this one is get a running start.” He cringes a little. “I don’t know if this one would be good for you, don’t want you bustin’ stitches, but I can at least show you how to do it? Basically, you get over it, any means necessary.”

I laugh. "Listen, the stitches are long gone, I have a nasty looking scar, that's about it. I'm a month in, Greg. I'm okay. Let me at this thing."

“Alright, alright. Military professional,” he says, pointing at himself, then he points at me. “Medical professional. I trust you, man. You want me to go over each thing separately, or you wanna try each one as we go?”

"Let's go. Let's do it. Let me have this. I have a death wish," I joke, and I'm bouncing on my feet, ready to go.

“Okay, okay, calm down, soldier,” he says. “Just go around the belly crawl. The low belly over, you just gotta climb up onto the low log, and heave yourself over the top one. Kinda like the belly buster. Careful not to roll your ankles when you jump. If I feel it comin’, I’ll tuck and roll. Just grab the rope on the next one, get your ass over, and haul ass to the wall. Now the trick to the wall is again your momentum. The higher your jump, the easier it is to get your ass over. Want me to run it with you?”

"Sure," I nod, and I'm wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into. He just drops low, waiting for me. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” he says, winking at me again. 

I get ready, and I look for his signal.

“Go whenever you want,” he taunts. “I’m givin’ you a head start.”

"Oh you're  _ on, _ Gerwitz," I say, and I start running. I jump up, and I try to get over it. Harder than it looks.

He practically hurdles over it, laughing as he drops to the ground under the barbed wire. 

I bypass it, instead trying to get up on the log, and I launch myself up to the top one. I almost topple, but I'm fine. I almost slip off the rope, hanging on for dear life.

Shit, I can feel something pulling. I'll deal with it later. 

I used to be able to climb ropes, but that was… twenty years ago.

“C’mon, Marcel,” He says out of nowhere, grabbing the rope next to me and disappearing over the wall. “Kick some ass!” He says, slightly muffled. 

I use my feet to clamp around the rope, get some traction, and finally I make it up and over.

The jump down is alright, and I have to roll. 

Oh God, the wall. 

Here goes my life. 

I sprint for it, and I jump for what I'm worth. Creaky knee, not withstanding, I get enough of a hold to start trying to pull myself up. 

"Well this is stupid," I mutter.

A month ago I could've done it, but I don't dare try to kick ass now.

Fuck it. 

“C’mon, brother,” I hear his voice from the top of the wall. He holds down a hand. “You got it.”

I take his hand, and thank God for brothers. With one hand, he pulls me far enough so I can pull myself up on the top. He sits, one leg under him, the other dangling down on the other side.

“Told you you could do it.”

I smile at him, and hell, I'm out of breath. 

Okay, well, made  _ that  _ mistake of looking down.

“Height’s freakin’ you out, isn’t it?” He says.

"No, Gerwitz, it's…" I give up on saying something witty. "Yeah, it's the height," I admit.

“You shoulda said something!” He says, nearly sliding down. I feel like he’s gonna slide down the whole way, but he grabs onto the side at the last second. “C’mon. Do this with me, And then use the wall to break your own fall.”

I nod at him, and I take a deep breath. I'm pretty sure the impact will knock it out from me, so I'm ready.

“Try not to pitch backwards when you hit, or you’ll fall on your ass,” he instructs, still hanging.

"Lord, forgive me my sins," I mutter before I inch forward, ready to go.

“I ain’t gonna let you die, now drop, Marcel,” he says, his Chicago accent coming through even more than usual. 

I push myself forward, and there's that one sickening instant where there's nothing holding me before I'm down on the ground, knees creaking with the impact. I feel two hands on my back where he catches me, stops me from falling back.

“Told ya,” he says one more time. 

I straighten, and sure enough, the wind's gone from my chest and I just sit down hard. 

"Well, that was an experience," I wheeze, staring up at him.

He leans his back against the wall and slides down until he’s sitting. He’s not even out of breath. 

“Can’t count how many times I’ve done this, or versions of this. Welcome to the club, buddy.”

I hold up a shaky thumbs up. "Food, please," I mutter. I stand up slowly, hand to my side.

“Should probably change, but you know what? Fuck it,” he says, dusting his hat off by slamming it against his leg. “Breakfast. Yes. Name the place. I didn’t get anything but coffee this morning. For…” He drifts. “Reasons I probably shouldn’t explain in explicit detail to you.”

I shudder to think. "Eppel's, on Roosevelt. Not far from here."

“You drive?” He asks. 

"Bus, actually," I say, brushing myself off.

He just waves his hand. “It ain’t far, we can just walk it.”

I bounce on my heels, then wince. "Let's go!"

“Hey, don’t forget who gives the orders around here,” He says.

I blink at him. "Yeah, shit. That's hot," I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. "The camo, the hat, the voice… yeah."

“Had I known all I had to do to get you to agree to a threesome was put on the uniform, I would have done it a while ago!” He scoffs. “Hey, Kate has one, too.”

I whimper, and then shut my mouth. You moron.

“Get your ass movin’!” He calls out. “Let’s go!”

"Fuck you," I say, pointing at him, but I'm laughing. "Stop that. Stop it."

“Never,” he says, walking backwards down the street, hat in hand. “It’s like I know Superman’s weakness now. I’m gonna milk it.”

I shake my head. "You're crazy. Crazy, man. Seriously."

“I gotta behave,” he finally says, straightening a little. “You make me misbehave.” 

Once he falls into step with me, he gets quiet.

"Mouse?"

“What made you come out today?”

"Missed you," I say, my hands shoved in my pockets. "Don't get to hang out with you much beyond the group."

“The ever growing crew, as it were,” He articulates. “How’s Rae?”

"She's… she's good. I like her." 

“C’mon, you gotta give me more than that,” He says. “For what it’s worth, I really like her. She’s nice. She’s sweet. She’s got this wild streak.”

"She reminds me of me," I blurt, staring at my feet enough I've suddenly forgotten how to walk. I stumble. He reaches out and stops me from completely tanking it. 

“Damn, buddy, you got it bad if you can’t fuckin’ ambulate,” he articulates.

I shrug. "She's deep, Mouse."

“You two have a connection,” he admits. “You gonna see her again soon?”

"Yeah, we're talkin'," I say. I feel a cramp from hunching over so I wave him down. "Need a second." 

He pulls me down onto a nearby bench. “You good?”

"Yeah, just pulling and cramping," I mutter, trying to stretch it out, arms above my head like I normally yawn. "Ow."

“Told ya to take it easy.”

I hum, and the pain is gone. "Listen, at this stage it just means everything is healing. And if I've done something stupid."

He leans over a little bit to whisper, “Like an obstacle course?”

I shove my hand gently into his face, turning his head. "Shut up, I wanted to."

“You didn’t do half bad. Better than some of my students.”

I nod, and I go quiet.

He watches the cars go by for a while, not saying anything.

Finally, I do. And I almost stop halfway through. 

"You said you were almost paralyzed," I whisper.

“Told you I was in a wheelchair,” he says matter-of-factly, not looking at me. “What did you think I meant?”

I don't know. "I don't know."

“Maybe I owe you the whole story,” He whispers.

"Only if you trust me with it."

“I should’ve told you a long time ago with that logic,” he chuckles, looking down at his hands.

I breathe an almost silent laugh. "I beg to differ, but go ahead."

“Did two tours in Afghanistan, first time around. Army Rangers, but you know that. Jay and I… we were in the lead humvee. Uh, medical… medical discharge after that. Got home, bounced around. Fell in with the wrong crew. Hack a DOD satellite in 2009,” he says, chuckling. “Petty theft. General… general stupid shit.”

I smile a bit. "Sounds like you."

“Became Jay’s CI, actually. For a while. And then he got me a job. Cleaned up. Met Kate,” he drifts, a smile on his face, as he absentmindedly spins his wedding band. “About three months after we met, we found out the serial killer we had been chasin’, he, uh, wanted her. Did she… did she tell you about it?”

I nod, and my mouth goes dry. "Yeah," I force myself to say.

“How much did she tell you about the case?” He says, his voice suddenly sharp.

"Said she got targeted by the asshole… she told me about St. Boniface."

“She told you her wounds, didn’t she?” He says, still mad. “She didn’t tell you everything. She volunteered, you know. She volunteered to be the bait. She knew she could get taken, but she didn’t care. She was done seeing all those girls get killed. Hell, one of her students… She volunteered. He took her to St. Boniface, and he strung her up. Broke a bunch of her ribs, because he slammed a piece of 2 x 4 into her side. Just to fuck with her. She somehow got him down, slipped her hands out. She… she ran, but he shot her in the kneecap. He tied her back up, and uh, got a…. You see his M.O… he would, uh, strangle the girls. Strangle them while… while he raped them. He got the damn noose around her neck, and she.. She’s so fucking stubborn, you know? And he… he started setting fires around that time, too. He set the damn building on fire before he tried to strangle and rape her. She… she literally broke his neck with her thighs, Crockett. Before she passed out.”

My hand is at the St. Luke medal around my neck before I realize it, and I suddenly wish I knew none of this. But I need to. I needed to know, and she wasn't going to tell me. 

"You got to her in time," I say, and in time for what? She's still alive, so I know they were there in time to get her. But not in time to stop this absolute bastard from… from hurting her.

“Barely,” he says, his voice cracking. “To be honest, could’ve used Kelley. She… she could’ve gotten in, gotten her out faster. Fuckin’ spider monkey. Of course, I got to her. The church was… was burning, but she… She was strung up on the scaffolding, a noose around her neck and a body at her feet. It was… It was a fucking abomination. Like a…. Like a sacrifice to Satan, or something. I got her down. I got her out. Barely had a pulse. Wasn’t breathing. We got her back, though. We… we got her back.”

I know they did. It doesn't stop the relief that floods through me. It doesn't. 

“That was the night I first admitted I loved her,” he says quietly. “And it was the night I started questioning whether I was doing everything I could. It was the night I started planning on re-enlisting. And seven months later, I broke up with her to join back up. And…. I knew it would be devastating. I knew. I was so focused on the noise in my own head, and the fact that I couldn’t stop her from… from him, that I decided I wanted to die over there. I couldn’t do it anymore. So I rejoined. Rejoined a unit for a year and a half.”

_ God, help me. _

My hand reaches for his, gripping it tightly.

“Then, it was my St. Boniface,” he says. He holds onto my hand for dear life. “Another convoy,” he lets out a dark chuckle. “Helmand Province. Shoulda known better. Should have seen the signs. Wasn’t… wasn’t in the lead this time. That one… completely blew up. No survivors. Engaged with insurgents. We, uh, we returned fire, but they hit our Humvee with a rocket. Exploded. I… I was the only survivor from the second. Four from the third. Next thing I remember, I’m waking up at Gaffney. Never even remember Landstuhl.”

I'm rubbing his hand with my own. "And then?" I ask softly. 

“I… I, uh, I had plans. Plans to not come home. And when I was… I didn’t know what to do. Especially after I pushed Kate away. But eventually she visited. She saw me at Gaffney, and it was like… “ he struggles to find the words. “Like a bit of quiet. I know that sounds crazy, me talkin’ about Kate like that, but… there was noise, and there was loud noise. It was…” he drifts, but then shakes his head, coming back. “When she was around, it was always like the noise… it didn’t go away, but it got… quiet.”

"She made the love louder," I whisper.

He chuckles. He laughs. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, something like that. So she came to visit me, that day, and brought me a bunch of ridiculous shit, and then she kissed me. I know she never intended to. Not the point. And for months, she was relentless. Even when I didn’t want her to be. And trust me, I didn’t want her to be. I was bouncing from halfway house to halfway house, livin’ on the street. In a wheelchair, too. Didn’t feel like goin’ through therapy. I wasn’t gonna make it very long, I kept telling myself. What was the point?”

My hand clamps around his, and it's almost all I can do.

“May 29, 2018,” He murmurs. “She literally had Jay track my phone. She found me at a homeless camp, uh, Lower Lower Wacker. She literally dragged me home with her. Made me stay. And you can’t say no to Kaitlyn Elen Cavanagh.”

I smile a bit. "No. No, you can't."

“I guess it’s Gerwitz now,” he says, his voice cracking. “Made me go into therapy. Mental and physical. By God, September? I was walking again. She talked to her boss in ROTC, got me a job as an associate professor. Training kids, wanting to join the Army. She thought it through, man. She thought it through. Didn’t want me to leave again. We weren’t even dating again when I had her meet my grandma. Mom left, dad died, she raised me. That’s a whole other story. But she gave me her engagement ring that day.”

"She knew, huh?" I say, and I move a hand to his back, slowly rubbing circles. God knows we both need the connection. 

“We got back together in November. By January, I had proposed. You… you know the rest.” He scratches at his left wrist, under his watch. “I… alright, no. No, in the spirit of full disclosure, you should know. You should… I told Kelley. Kate, Kelley, and now you. And with Kelley’s history, you should know.”

"Oh God," I whisper. I can see the scarring, sure, but he takes off his cuff and his watch. 

“Most of this is from the explosion,” he says, but runs his finger over four different lines. “I remember all of them. March 16, 2018. Kate visited me and kissed me in the hospital four days later. April 30. Three days… three days later, Kate found me again. Took me to lunch. This one,” he says, pointing to a deeper one, “After Al. You… Kate told you about Al, right? It was after his funeral. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t talk to her. I couldn’t. I almost gave up.”

"You…" I whisper, but stop. He needs to get this out.

He traces a thumb over a longer scar. Short, sure, but it starts lengthwise, nearly cutting through the others. “May 28. Kate took me home the next day.”

My hand stills on his back. 

"You're here."

He laughs. It’s a loud laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. If it weren’t for… for Kate, I wouldn’t be. In more ways than one.” He slips his watch, his cuff back on. “Well, now you know my entire tragic backstory. Only took you a year to unlock it, yeah?”

"You told Kelley," I realize. "You told her."

“A’course I told her,” He says. “She needed to hear it. She had to hear it. I… I needed to tell it.”

"Thank you for that. Thank you for…" I can't. I just rub his hand gently for a moment. 

After I can breathe again, I come to the conclusion that I'm a masochist.

"How much has Kate told you about me?" I ask quietly. 

“I know you grew up in the worst part of N’awlins,” he drawls. “Your family. Makes sense to me you’ve got brothers. Got that brother mentality. Your parents, Tehran. Your brothers and their issues. Katrina. You’ve seen as much death as I have, brother.” 

I nod, and I focus on his hand in mine. I have to. 

"Seen a lot, seen a lot almost happen. Been caught in a hell of a storm. Mouse, let me put it to you like this." I take a deep breath. "It's like a Cat 5 hurricane. Like Katrina, hell, like Sandy or Harvey. There's the hurricane, and there's the eye of the storm. The calm. The calm within the storm. But in that damn middle, there's a piece that we call the eyewall. And that son of a bitch hits hard. However hard the rest of the winds and rain hits from the hurricane, the eyewall is the worst. And there's two of it. You get the first half and you think, okay, this is hell. Then you get a calm. A calm you know won't last long, and you're just going to get hit again. Almost makes the second time around worse… Mouse, it's like I’ve been stuck in that storm cell. Tossed between the eye and the eyewall. When I got taken, off the actual street, in broad daylight, I realized something. I was back in the eyewall. And it was worse. It was worse than when…" I take a breath. "It was worse than after Katrina, when I got pulled into someone's van then too. Tried to exploit me. I was just… in the middle of New Orleans, who the hell would miss the poor college student, his brothers? No. Not even close. Not even damn close. And then I got taken to try and save someone's damn life, and… and I couldn't. I saw Kate and Voight in front of me. And I wanted to tell them to turn around and leave. Just let the bastard kill me. Haven't I gone through enough?"

He sits patiently, and it almost makes me mad. But then he speaks. “I’m sick of hearin’ that word. ‘Enough’. Kate said the same thing after Kelley…” he drifts. “Wonderin’ if we had done enough. About being stressed enough. About loving enough. Yes, Crockett, you have gone through hell. You have… you  _ have _ gone through enough. You have made full measure on that account. But think about the other things you _ haven’t _ done enough of. You find that one thing, and you latch onto it like… like it’s a fucking life raft in that hurricane. You gotta find that life raft, Crockett. You’ve gotta find your ‘enough’. When it feels like you’ve been through enough, what still keeps you there? You know…. You know who mine is. It has and always will be Kate. And we just keep bailin’ out that boat, and Lord knows… I know it’s comin’, because we’re lookin’... we’re lookin’ at houses, and we’re trying to get pregnant, and it’s just… let me put it like this. Let me say it like this. Every time I tried… tried to…” He can’t even say it, he just gestures to his wrist. “Days later—days!—Kate was there. You gotta push through. You may feel like you’re in the eyewall, but sooner or later, that storm is gonna dissipate, and maybe you’ll have a rainstorm, and you’ll still need your lifeboat, but someone’ll be there to help you bail out the water.” He sighs. “That got away from me, but I think you get my point.”

I nod. And I pull him into me, and I'm holding him, and the hug… I can't help but think it's what we both needed. "I've got you, brother," I whisper.

“I’ve got you, too. Remember that.”

"Always. I won't let go if you won't."

“Is that sarcasm? I’m not good with that, you know. Wait, you mean figuratively. Not literally. Yeah. Figuratively makes sense. I ain’t gonna let you go either, Crockett.”

I lean my forehead against his shoulder and breathe. "Good. We're brothers."

“I love you, man. You think you ready to eat now? Kate and I had a  _ lot _ of morning sex, and I am  _ hungry.” _

"There are things that your brother does not need to know. Like that. Seriously, man. Didn't need that mental image. Yeah, food. Let's go."

He lets out a dumb chuckle. “Still made you laugh.”


	34. Never Give It Up, Never Turn It Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate and Kelley catch up with Sylvie and her major life changes when they meet up for breakfast, but it turns out to be a deeper conversation than Kelley bargained for when she realizes Sylvie was the one who saved him after the worst call of his life. The next hockey practice, though, things turn around for Kelley and Raz when they realize Kate’s anger only solidifies Raz’s place in their little family. It only gets deeper when Crockett comes home to be greeted by an anxiety flu and four rowdy hockey players.

_Wouldn't Trade It for Gold_

**February 28, 2020** **  
** **0912 Hours** **  
** **Lou Mitchell’s, 565 W. Jackson Blvd., Chicago** **  
** **Kate**

I loop my arm through Sylvie’s as we head into the restaurant.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in _ forever _,” I say, looking for the booth Kelley had snagged. It’s a blessing, her being so close to this place. Oh, Lord, she’s already got coffee.

“Hey, Kel!” I call out to her as we approach.

"Hey! Kateeee!" She nods to me, then makes grabby hands at Sylvie. "Brett! Come here, I need my Brett hugs!"

“Has she had coffee already?” Sylvie says, eyeing me as she’s nearly tackled by Kelley. 

“Somewhere between one and two pots is likely,” I say.

"Five!" Kelley smiles, almost calmly.

“Five pots?!” Sylvie says in shock. “Kelley, that’s… that’s too much.”

I slide into the booth. “It’s literally all she drinks. Coffee and orange Gatorade. God, I’m hungry.”

"Food," Kelley mutters into her cup. "Brett! I have a bone to pick with you, little lady!"

Sylvie looks like she’s been hit with whiplash as she clutches the menu. “What did I do?”

"Who was that lady who showed up at the house yesterday?" Kelley asks bluntly, staring at her.

“What? Oh. _ Oh _. Yeah,” Sylvie says. I know she’s stalling, looking at the menu, so I do what I do best—I push it down and out of her eye line. 

“Yeah, Sylvie, who was that lady who showed up at the house yesterday?”

She sighs, knowing she’s caught. 

“That… she was my mom. My birth mom.”

Kelley squeals. "That was your birth mom? That's why she looks like you!"

“Holy shit,” I breathe. “How did _ that _ all go down?”

“She… she found me,” she says. “I got her address… I actually went and tracked her down. Long story short, she ended up at the Firehouse. I plan on seeing her again. I mean… that’s crazy, right?”

"Not at all," Kelley says, smiling at her warmly. "I think it's pretty cool."

Sylvie lets out a heavy breath, almost like she needed to get it out, and then I let her look back at the menu. 

“I’m gonna need about…. Four separate meals,” I mutter.

After a moment, Kelley clears her throat and speaks again. "What did Casey say?"

The blush comes to her cheeks quickly. “Oh, uh, why… why do you think he knows?” She asks.

Kelley sighs and puts the menu down, clasping her hands on the table. She winks at me. "Okay Watson, take notes."

"You have disappeared into Casey's office a few times, once, you even shut the door. You keep pulling him aside in the rig bay, _ and _you disappeared after shift at least two separate times. You blush when he's mentioned, and when he talks, to anyone, you're watching him. It's sickening. And cute."

She's listed it all off on her fingers, and then points at her accusingly.

"You, Sylvie Louise Brett, like Captain Matt Casey." She sits back, satisfied. "Boom."

Sylvie just stares at her in awe. “When did she become Sherlock Holmes?!”

“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” I recite quickly. “Do you have a crush on Casey?”

“What? No!” She says, scoffing. “Me? Casey? No.”

Kelley's grumbling. "Screw that, you're Jack Dalton," she points at me. "I'm Macgyver, if nothing else."

I think over it. “That’s… not a bad comparison. That’s… yeah. That’s accurate.” When the waitress appears, I go quick. “Coffee, two eggs with bacon, add sausage, add hash browns, add pancakes, Sylvie, I ain’t done with you.”

Kelley looks up. "Coffee, pancakes, sausage, bacon, thanks Miranda!" She turns to Sylvie. "Casey likes you," she says simply, going back to her half done coffee.

“The apple and cheese omelette and coffee, please, thank you,” she says, distractedly. “I’m sorry, can you explain yourself? What do you mean, he likes me?”

Kelley throws her hands up. "I can't with you…" she mutters. "You know _ everything I just listed? _ Goes both ways! He watches you with a damn smile on his face!"

She looks at us both in concern, and then the blush takes over her cheeks and she starts to smile. “You… you really think so?”

Kelley slams her head onto the table. "Yes!" She groans.

“Well, what do I do?!” She says. “Should I do anything? I mean, we’re in the same house… we all know how that goes…”

Kelley just starts laughing like a hyena. "Do mine sources deceive me or were you not dating Joe at one point? Do you not _ see _Sev and Stella? Yes, I know how it goes!"

“But look at all the ones that have failed! Casey included!” She says, exasperated.

"And then you look at the ones that have thrived! Like Sev and Stella!"

Miranda returns with our coffee, and looks at Kelley. I think she’s considering just leaving the very full pot in her hand.

"Miranda, I might need a bigger cup," she says, smiling at her.

With a sigh, she sets down the pot on the table. “Your breakfast will be out soon.”

“I think you should ask him out,” I say, putting some sugar in my coffee before stirring it and drinking about half of it.

“What? No! I can’t ask him out! I’ll get all… all flustered!”

"He thinks it's cute, besides, if you haven't noticed, _ he _ gets flustered too," Kelley sighs.

“Y’all are children,” I mutter. “Glad I don’t have to deal with this shit anymore.”

"Nah, you just gotta deal with us now, _ Mom, _" Kelley says, pointing at me. "Right, Brett?"

“Yeah. Yeah!” She says, the second one more emphatic. “You have no room to talk. Your relationship history is weird enough.”

“That’s not fair,” I say. “Extenuating circumstances.”

Kelley just gives Sylvie a Look. "Keep tellin' yourself that, Kate."

“Hey! We’re happy! We’re happily married! It was a weird, weird road to get there, but we did it! We won the game!”

Kelley just nods, downing the coffee and refilling it. "I know," she says softly. 

She looks at Sylvie, then starts grinning maniacally. "I have another question for you!"

“Oh, lord,” Sylvie says under her breath. “Yes, Kelley.”

"What color are Casey's eyes?"

“Blue,” she says with a smile. 

"There it is," Kelleh crows, gesturing to Sylvie. "Kate, do you see it?"

“Of course I do,” I say. 

“See _ what?” _ Sylvie says, exasperated. “You two are ganging up on me. It’s not fair.”

Kelley's dancing in her seat. "That's the same look Kate gets when Mouse is mentioned, and how Mouse looks when Kate is mentioned, the look 'Kett gets when someone talks about Raelynn… need I go on?"

“The way you and Raz look at each other,” I add. 

"Shut up," she says, still dancing.

“Yeah, I need more details about this guy,” Sylvie says. “I heard you telling Gallo and Ritter about him a while ago.”

"Oh no. Nope, this ain't about me," Kelley says, pointing at her. "Nope. This about you."

“Fine! Fine, fine. What if I tell you I’ll do something about it?”

"Then you actually have to, because I'll know, Brett! I know where you work! I _ know. _"

I actually shiver. Her threat isn’t empty. My stomach is, though, and our food finally arrives. I have to move my drink for the amount of plates. 

“Oh thank God, I’m ravenous,” I mutter. 

Kelley stares at hers with an ever-increasingly concerning grin. 

“So, Raz,” Sylvie says. “Tell me about him.”

Kelley goes dreamy-eyed again. Gross. "You remember the call with the leopard?"

“Oh, yeah,” Sylvie says. “I remember him from the wedding, too. I want details, Marcks. Give me the details.”

"He's sweet, he's the best guy I know besides my brothers, and… he's…." She trails off. "He's lonely and I want to give him everything."

Damn. That hurts a little. I can’t help but feel like I was part of the problem. Well, not so much anymore. 

“He’s one of the defenders on the North Side Valentines,” I say. I’ve known him for a couple years now. Sweet kid. Weird kid. That tracks.” I wink at Kelley. “But for real, he’s a good guy. Animal control officer, and he’s seen some…. Some shit, you know?”

“I think I’ve been to a few of his calls,” Sylvie says, thinking. “Wait, is he the Black Mamba guy?”

Kelley's eyes go wide. "Seriously?? You were there?"

“We were called in for backup,” she says. “First ambo got the victim, but they wanted us on hand in case something went wrong, and let me tell you… that was… it was not easy. We almost lost him twice on the way to Gaffney.”

"Oh my God," Kelley whispers, and there's tears in her eyes. "So you… you were there, and shit hit… hit the fan."

“Yeah, I think it was… what, 2017? Dawson and I were on the call. He definitely shouldn’t have survived that. He waited like, fifteen minutes before saying anything!”

"He's a moron," she says, wiping her eyes. "But… he was okay after that."

Sylvie starts to open her mouth, but decides against it and gets into her omelette. 

"I'm so glad he's okay," Kelley mutters. "Need to remind him he has people who care about him. Gotta do that. Gonna kiss that dang boy when I see him." She's cutting her pancakes almost violently as she mutters. "Gonna kiss him and hold him and wrap him up in a blanket like a damned burrito and never let go. You don't let go of a treasure like that pure, sweet bean." She stabs a sausage, or… tries to. 

“Seems a bit reckless, but it’s not like we don’t know anyone like that, do we, Kate?”

I have about a quarter of a pancake in my mouth, but I nod, chew, swallow. 

“Could you imagine if they got married and had kids?” I say. “They’ll either be literal aliens or the calmest kids ever.”

“Cancel it out,” Sylvie says.

Kelley just stares off into the distance, and she's blushing. "He's so cute. He's hot. Kinda want to kiss him in the alley again." I don't think she knows what she's saying, and wyew. Info time.

“So _ that’s _ where y’all got off to,” I say, gesturing with my fork. “You take it slow with that boy. Somethin’ tells me he’s got it bad for you, and I don’t want either of you going too fast and blowing it all to hell.”

Kelley salutes me. "Yes, ma'am. The only one gettin' blown to hell is…" her eyes glaze over. "Let… lemme put that another way," she mutters.

“Fair enough.”

* * *

_That Front Porch Light That Takes Me Home_

**February 29, 2020** **  
** **1403 Hours** **  
** **Johnny’s Ice House - East** **  
** **Mouse**

I sigh. I should have known that AK letting Raz have the aux cord at practice is a bad idea. He went from Zeppelin to Queen, and now, as he’s zipping around the edge of the rink, head bobbing, he grabs Kelley and forces her into a spin before letting her go and continuing his laps. 

“Don’t let me hear you say life’s takin’ you nowhere, angel!” He sings, apparently trying to skate and moonwalk at the same time.

“Who gave the kid speed?” I say, throwing my thumb towards the lapping Raz.

Kelley raises her hand. "My fault for kissing him before in the locker room?" She giggles, watching him.

“There’s my baby, lost, that’s all! Once I’m beggin’ you, save her little soul!” He sings, he tries to spin, and completely flat tires.

I roll my eyes.

"You good, honey?" Kelley calls to him from where she's trying to pull off a figure eight. 

“Hold up, hold up,” Goop says, gesturing between the two of them.”I know we’ve been off for the holidays, but the fuck is this?”

Kelley's kind stops, I can see it on her face, but her body keeps going, and she flat tires, not unlike her… her boy? I don't know. 

They make a good pair. They even flop together.

"What the fuck is what?" She says from where she's on the ice. Literally.

“They’re dating,” Murf says, and suddenly everyone is listening. Everyone listens when Murf speaks. When he does, you know it’s gonna be good. “Didn’t everyone know?”

Kelley bonds up and gestures to him. "Yeah, exactly! Thank you, Murf." She skates over to Raz, smiling brightly. He just lays there, smiling at Kelley.

“It’s not like you try to hide it,” Kate says, skating backwards behind the goal and then around again.

"Fair," Kelley shrugs, holding out her hands to Raz. "Come on up, honey."

Kilts starts making gagging noises, but Goop isn’t ready to let it go. “How long has this been going on?”

She looks at Raz, and it's like they're talking with their eyes. 

"For a long time," Kelley finally says, hauling Raz up.

“At least since, what, New Years?” Kate offers, leaning on her stick. 

“That’s two months!” Dags interjects. “That’s a long time for you, Raz!”

Raz blushes, looks almost down to the ice. 

“Hey, man, not cool, especially when his girl’s right there,” I say, pointing at him. 

Kelley just moves closer to Raz. 

“Dags, how many times have you been divorced, bud?” Kate chirps. “Three?”

“Two, stop being a dick!” He calls back. 

The mood in the rink could probably melt the ice, but AK just gives Kate and I a death glare. Yeah, okay, whatever. She actually lets out a chuckle. 

“Focus, guys. Mouse, Tilly, Claude, Raz…” AK looks around. “Kilts, Laser.”

Kilts, who had been quiet for a while, skates over to me.

“Tilly’s gonna fight him, you know,” he says excitedly.

I eye her. Even under her helmet, I can see the anger building. Dags had struck a chord, and she’s about to strike back. 

Lord, please don’t let my wife break any bones. Crockett will kill me.

Kelley is skating around, her hand on Raz's arm. She's saying something, but I can't quite hear, but smiles at him.

I can literally hear Kate growling. 

“Down, girl,” I stage-whisper. 

“I’m gonna eat his soul.”

“No, you’re not, babe. Souls are non-corporeal.”

She doesn’t take her eyes off Dags, and he gives her the two fingered ‘I’m watching you’ gesture.

She gives him the one fingered ‘fuck you’ gesture.

Kelley skates up beside me. "Kate's in attack mode." She turns to Raz beside her.

“What is Kate doing?” Raz says innocently. We watch as she skates towards the faceoff, not turning her back to Dags as she does. 

“Something decidedly not good,” I say, watching still. “Hey, Raz?”

“‘Sup, Mouse?” He says with a smile. 

“You remember January 2018?”

“Parts of it!” He says, “The parts when I wasn’t nearly in a coma!”

“I think she’s gonna do it again.”

“What?!” Raz sputters. “Why?”

Kelley nudges him, but looks to me, and she looks a bit worried.

“She’s defending your honor, brother,” I mutter, settling down and getting ready for the shitshow. “You better get into position. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

She’s almost pacing, and I hear her singing along to the playlist. 

“Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name, but what’s puzzlin’ you is the nature of my game…”

“Kate!” I call out, and she spins to face me. All I need to say is one word: “don’t.”

She looks from me, to Kelley, to Raz, then back to me. 

And all she needs to say is one word.

“No.”

Kelley swears. "I'm off duty," she mutters. "This is bad. This is deja vu."

_ Sympathy for the Devil _ keeps playing, and I hear her cackling laugh as AK drops the puck. Even in the midst of her bloodlust, I can’t get over watching her play. Because when she’s on the ice, that’s all I do: watch. It’s gonna be an easy day for me, but not so easy day for Edger.

She nearly gets nailed, passes it to Kelley, who passes it back to her for an easy shot once she’s clear of the guys coming at her. She gets right into the face of Dags as she goes. 

I don’t hear what he says, but she just snaps, “Try again, asshole.”

“There is a no chirping policy!” AK yells. “I will stop this game!”

Kelley swoops around, ready to go, eyes sweeping across the ice. Raz skates behind her, barely touches her hand to get her attention, then skates back to position. It’s… actually kind of cute. Not that nauseating. At least this time.

She nods once, following his lead, but her eyes are on Kate.

Kate’s on the puck again. She pulls off a dangle in front of Dags and I swear she’s doing it just to fuck with him. 

“I swear to God, Tilly,” he cries out. 

“Be nicer!” is all she says, spinning out of his way and taking the puck around the entire defending team. Kelley just slams into Goop, sending him into the boards, but it actually makes him laugh. They lose focus for a second, just standing there and laughing. At least someone’s being good natured about this. 

“Oh, shit,” Goop says, “We gotta play!” He points to where Kate has bogarted the puck again. 

Dags, on the other hand, is still pissed. I almost leave the crease because I see it coming before she does. 

She shoots, and makes it, but not before Dags just nails her to the boards.

“Hey, hey, hey, yo, what the _ fuck _, dog?!” I yell out. It’s harder than it has to be. We all know it. Kate tosses her stick. 

“Guys, c’mon,” Laser says, trying to break it up by pulling Dags away, but it doesn’t work. He just pushes him away. 

Kate doesn’t help, either. She gets all up in Dags’s face. 

“Seriously, dude? You wanna do this? You wanna? Because I will.”

“All this because I chirped about Raz’s dating history? That’s the joke, Tilly! He has none! Kid’s a weirdo!”

She pushes his chest. “You got no right to talk shit like that.”

The game has effectively stopped at this point, but I turn to look at Kelley and Raz.

Kelley is wrapped around Raz's side, and she's not even looking at the others, just hanging onto him. He’s taken off his helmet, holding it down at his side, and he looks… well, there’s a mixture. There’s a dash of fear, of concern, but there’s also a twitch at his lips as he threatens to smirk. 

That is, until Kate pulls her gloves off. He starts forward, towards the fight about to go off.

Kelley just pulls him back to lay a kiss to his nose, touches his cheek, then just nods once, letting go of him.

And he drops his helmet, skating full speed almost into Kate. He’s got just enough room to get between her and Dags, and he pushes her back, gently, into the boards, her fists still up. AK pulls Dags back to the opposite side of the rink.

I can’t hear what Raz says to Kate, but she still looks pissed, staring at Dags, as Raz pins her shoulders to the boards. After a minute, she nods, not looking at him, and he lets her go. 

She picks up her gloves, her helmet, cracks her neck, and looks back to AK.

“We’ve got a game to play, let’s go.”

Kelley skates up to me. "The hell just happened, Mouse?" She's a little freaked out.

“That?” I say, leaning on my stick and pointing at Kate, “That was Kate, giving her blessing on your little union.”

Kate skates up to Raz, and although she can’t see us talking, it’s enough. She just fist bumps a waiting Raz.

* * *

_Nothing's ever meant more to me_

**February 29, 2020** **   
** **2029 Hours** **   
** ** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago**   
** **Crockett**

I don't look at anyone when I get home. I don't understand why there's people over here. I thought they had hockey practice. It's Kelley, Tom, Mouse and Kate. 

Nope. Can't do it. Can't do it. I go straight into my room, shutting the door. 

"Oh no," Kelley mutters. I can just barely hear her. 

I drop my bag to the floor, flopping on my bed. I can't compare. I can't. But the fact that the woman went to jail for the fact she stood up against her now-dead, abusive husband? 

Makes me  _ sick.  _ Makes me remember when Jenny shot Robbie in self-defence. 

My sister in law shot my brother in front of me. I don't lose sleep over him dying. But the fact she got sentenced to twenty five years…. That's the part that's gonna haunt me. And it's still haunting me. 

I can hear the others talking in the other room. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, drumming up the exhaustion. I honestly do  _ not  _ feel good. I'm about a hundred and ten percent sure I've been unintentionally worrying myself sick since I left work, so good on that, I guess. I get to reap  _ that  _ benefit. 

It's not even  _ anxiety.  _ I could deal with that if it was. 

I snort. Who am I kidding? I couldn't even do that. I strip off my scrub shirt, leaving my tank top. I creep out my door, snagging a hoodie on the way as I slip to the floor in the bathroom, curling up on the wall as I wait for the inevitable nausea. 

I know it's coming. I know I shouldn't have worried myself into it, but it's far too late to stop it now. 

Oh. Yeah, yep, there we go. There's the nausea. Chills should follow presently.  _ Now  _ it's a party. 

I realize the chatter from the other room has stopped. I can't bring myself to care, as long as they don't come in. 

I sigh, hugging the hoodie to my chest. I don't want to put it on. Not yet. 

When I shut my eyes, I see the courtroom. I see Jenny. If I try, I can see the blood on the floor of the apartment, so I don't try. 

When I open my eyes, I'm throwing up. It's mostly water and acid. I've been too busy and not caring to eat all day.  _ Again. _

Well, the party has officially fucking started. The tears streaking down my face as I heave can tell me that, or the fact I feel like I'm getting sick, or the fact I'm shivering like a hypothermic idiot who came home with no jacket. No, wait, I was wearing one. I must'a dropped it in the bedroom. 

Whatever. I lean my head on the wall as I wipe my mouth. This is fun. So much fucking fun. Look, my internal monologue can do sarcasm! I make myself laugh. It makes me heave. 

God, I feel like  _ shit. _

There’s a gentle knock on the door. 

“Uh, Dr. Marcel? You okay? Kelley told me not to come in but I didn’t listen.”

I try and take a breath, choking on whatever is still coming up. It takes me a damn long time to cough enough to get out a small "hey."

He kneels down in front of me, looking… calm. 

“Hey. Hey,” He whispers. “What’s up?”

"Sick. Literally worried myself sick. I'll be okay. Gotta. Gotta run the course." I hold my palm to my forehead, trying to hold off the next heave. It doesn't work.

“Oh, yeah, okay, yep, done this before,” he stutters. “Hang on. Trash can. Check.” He sets it in front of me. “Uhh… uhh… what else can I do?”

I shrug helplessly. "Wouldn't mind a bullet through my head," I joke weakly, but it comes out dark. The chills are here, for fucks sake. I just hug the hoodie tighter. 

“That’s not gonna help,” he mutters, looking for a blanket. He wraps it around my shoulders. “Wanna… wanna talk about it?”

"Everyone has their stickin' points," I mumble. "I have too many to count. I feel too sick to sleep." 

“Didn’t say you had to,” he says, flopping down onto the floor next to me.

I'm shivering again as I heave. "This is stupid," I mutter. "Stupid."

“Not stupid,” he says. He reaches out to touch me, and stops mid-reach. 

I let out a shaky sigh. "It's okay," I whisper. 

“Well, uh, maybe… maybe it’s not, if you’re trying to puke. Just… just saying. If it was nothing, you wouldn’t react like this. I mean. Just… just saying.”

"You're a good kid. Good head on your shoulders." My eyes water of their own free accord as I shiver. I pull the blanket tighter, and the stupid dizziness starts the countdown to the next heave. 

“Uh, okay, not been told that,” he murmurs. “New thing. Uh, Dr. Marcel? Would you feel better if you puked? Or if you talk about it? I’ll listen.” 

The last two words come out so softly, I almost can’t hear him.

I turn my head ever so slightly to glance at him. "Rough case," I say quietly. 

“Case you got too close to?” He asks, giving me a small smile. 

"Little bit." I heave again, and I hate it. When I stop, I sigh. "Had to watch a woman go to jail because she stood up to her abusive husband. Who died." 

He straightens a little. “Uh, what?! That’s—that’s not okay. Why?!”

"Ethics committee ruled against her, and then it was too late. She was drivin'." I sigh. 

“That’s… that ain’t right.” I see him typing on his phone suddenly, seemingly distracted. 

"What… you okay?" I mumble, bending over the trashcan again.

“What? I’m good. I’m textin’ my sister. She’s in law school.”

I chuckle, then take a shaky breath, arms over my stomach. "I need to drink somethin'," I mutter. "Gonna feel even worse if I don't."

“I’ll be back,” he says, getting to his feet. He’s out the door before I can say anything, and I hear them barely outside. 

“He okay?” Mouse asks. 

“He’s fine, he’s fine. It’ll be fine. Getting Gatorade.”

He slips back inside, holding a Gatorade bottle. “It’s orange. Is that good?”

"Works for me, thanks, kid." I try to crack it, fumbling with it. I finally get it open, and I drink more than I should. He just flops down on the floor again. 

“You can talk to me, you know.”

I nod. "Thanks," I whisper. 

"Hey, how we doin'?" I hear Kelley say softly from the door. 

I shrug, pulling the trashcan closer again. 

“Could be better, could be worse,” he says. “We are working on it.”

"Fever?"

“Uh, didn’t check. I think he just had a gross day. You know how it is.” 

God, he sounds so anxious all of a sudden, like he’s trying to get her to leave. 

"I'll check in a bit, bud."

He gives her finger guns as she goes, and then cringes. “Well, that was dumb.”

"You okay?" 

He laughs nervously. “When am I ever okay?”

"Seriously."

“I’m fine,” he says. “Actually, more than usual. Just wanna make sure you are, too. Becky says she’s gonna find them. Actually, I think she quoted  _ Taken, _ but I’m not sure.”

I chuckle, hugging the sweater. "That… that helps."

“She’s really good. I mean, she doesn’t have her degree yet, but she knows what she’s doing. She can help.”

"The help can always be used." 

I take a shaky breath. "I… can you help? Help me up? Want off the floor. Gonna puke if I'm down here."

“Oh, hell yeah, one second,” he says, leaning down and slipping his hands under my arms. “C’mon. I got you, Dr. Marcel.”

I lean on him, trying to readjust. "Thanks, Tom. Good…" I give him a bit of a shaky smile. "Good head on your shoulders. Couch?"

“You wanna go out there? I mean, we’re all still shootin’ the shit out there. Kate fought one of our teammates today!”

"Oh, Lord," I mutter. "Yeah. Out there. Would rather be around all'a you rather than alone."

He shuffles out the door and almost runs into Kate. 

“Uh, hi?”

She ducks under one of my arms, helping Tom. “Sup? I fought a dude!” She whispers. 

“Not something to be proud of,” Mouse deadpans as they ease me down onto the couch. 

"Uh, it's  _ Kate.  _ She's gonna be proud of it. And he was an asshole. He  _ deserved it,"  _ Kelley hisses. The venom in her voice surprises me, offset by how gently she tucks a blanket around me. 

They’re like a well oiled machine: Mouse automatically slips a pillow under my head. Tom brings back the Gatorade as he complains to Kate about her reasons for apparently attacking their teammate. 

I just listen, watching them all. Kelley pulls Tom into a hug, high-fiving Kate over Tom's shoulder. 

“I regret nothing. It was for Tom’s honor.”

He looks surprised, still hugging Kelley, as he mouths to her,  _ Tom? _

Kelley just kiss attacks him, then tries to knock him down. "Cutie."

“What did I do?” He mutters. I see Kate and Mouse, not even reacting. Usually at least Kate makes some sort of grimace. In fact, I just see her smirk. 

“Alright, kids, looks like I’m makin’ soup,” Mouse says. “Who’s in?”

He raises his own hand, before Kate pushes it down. “You’re so weird.”

"I'm in!" Kelley says, bouncing up. "Count me in!"

“I’ll help,” Tom says, “love to cook.” He just looks to Kelley sheepishly. She just kisses him and hauls him to the kitchen. 

I chuckle, curling up under the blanket, watching those two kids. They're adults, but they're kids.

Well, so are the Gerwitzes, as Kate shoves Mouse and he shoves her back. 

“I’ll fight you. Hand to God,” Kate says. 

“I’ll kick your ass.”

“I’ll kick  _ your  _ ass.”

“Babe, we can’t do this here.”

"Get a room," I mumble.

Kate just flips me off. 

"Yeah, yeah." I flip her off back.

“There he is,” she crows. “Feelin’ better already!”

I stick my tongue out at her. "Now it just feels like a two day-old flu rather than the anxiety flu from hell."

“We’ll get you some fluids, and some soup, and you’ll be feelin’ right as rain,” Mouse says, and then cringes. “I sound old. Super old.”

Kate flings a towel at him. 

“I don’t think it’s the soup that’s gonna help,” Tom says softly. He flicks his eyes between the four of them, finally landing on me with a smile.

I smile back with the smallest nod.  _ Thanks,  _ I mouth. He just grins, looking down at the floor. 

It’s the most I’ve ever seen him smile. I hope I can see it more. 


	35. As You're Planning Your Weekend (He's Planning his Headstone Engraving)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing kidnapping alongside Dr. Natalie Manning, Crockett tries to sort out the traumatic event at Gaffney. But between Manning and Choi, their lack of understanding of his own personal trauma lead him to yet another incident in the ED.

**March 6, 2020** **   
** **2014 Hours** **   
** **Somewhere in Back of the Yards** **   
** **Crockett**

I turn to the cops as they drag the guy to the ambo, watching for a long moment. 

"You okay?" I ask Manning. "You… you okay?"

She just stares at the guy for the longest time. I don’t think she can hear me. 

I just take a breath in the chilled night air. Something jangles, and when I look down, the cuffs are still attached to my left wrist. I swallow hard, shoving my hands in my pockets. 

She starts at the sound looking at me almost in shock, and then blinks. 

“Jay?” She calls out, almost fearful. “Jay, can you…. Can you come here?”

Her arm catches his, and he looks at her briefly. “What do you need?”

“Do you…” she’s almost breathless. “Your handcuff key.”

“What? Yeah, hang on,” he says, going for one of his pockets. She takes it in her shaking hands, gesturing to my hand, not looking at me.

I take it out of my pocket, making a fist so it doesn't shake as bad. The way I'm gritting my teeth makes me wonder if I'm gonna break one. 

She just takes my hand, taking the key back and unhooking the handcuff from my wrist. She nearly lets it fall, but scrambles enough to catch it and hands it back to Jay as he walks by. 

Manning just shoves her hands in her pockets, looking down at the ground.

"Thanks," I mutter. "We… we need to go. To Gaffney."

“I know. I… I know. Are you alright?” She says, looking to me, almost suddenly. 

I have a bad taste in my mouth, I realize. "Yeah. You? You okay?"

“You asked me that already,” she says under her breath. “Yeah. I’m… I’m okay. We should go. We need to go. Are you hurt?”

I rotate my arms a bit, feeling the pull in my muscles, some more than others. "Might need checked. Arms above my head pulled." 

She looks at me once more, and I know the look. It’s the look Kate gets sometimes. The one I’ve seen from Kelley. She just nods, and without saying anything, starts walking towards Maggie and April.

I follow at a distance, and when I get to the curb, I glance back at the house, shivering once. 

I just look around, suddenly wondering how we're gonna get back. 

All I see is April taking Manning in her arms, while Maggie nearly trips over herself to try to get to me. When she does, she starts looking me over. “Are you alright? Are you okay?”

My own damn voice sounds like it's through a tunnel. "Think I pulled my side, somethin' in my neck and arms. Kicked in the stomach."

“I drove here, c’mon,” she says. “We’ll take you back to Gaffney.”

Manning just looks over her shoulder at me, like she’s trying to make sure I’m still there.

"She okay?" I ask Maggie, just automatically following her.

“She’s in shock,” she says, dropping her voice low. “How are you doing?”

I glance at the car, suddenly losing my train of thought. "Hmm?"

She just nods once, like she finally understands. “Okay, into the car, let’s go. Headed back to Gaffney.”

April sits in the back with Manning, her eyes still flitting back and forth. Maggie opens the passenger side door for me. 

I slide in, clenching my jaw as I keep my eyes out the window. If I think about being in the car, game over. Even in the cold March air, Maggie rolls the windows down before we even start towards Gaffney, the cold breeze already slipping into the car. I can hear Manning shivering from the back, but Maggie doesn’t pull the windows up.

I just feel myself blink from time to time. It's not until we're about a minute out that I really realize where I am. From the back, I finally hear the crying, like it just hit her in on the way. 

Maggie pulls up underneath the underhang into the ED, parking and coming around. April already has Manning out by the time Maggie makes it to me.

I just pop the seatbelt, trying to get out as fast as I can. There's a pain in my chest, up my neck and down my side.

“C’mon, ‘Kett, let’s get you inside,” she mutters, pulling me through the waiting room to the ED. I see Monique nearly falling over her own feet to come over. 

“You found them?! Are they okay?” Her eyes go to Manning, but she’s already pulled into a treatment room. 

“Go help Dr. Manning,” Maggie gently orders, and Monique just shakes her head once. 

“I’m staying with him. April is with Dr. Manning.”

"You're a good kid," I tell her, and I try to shake myself out. 

“Get him to a treatment room,” Maggie orders. Monique, bless her, tries to slip under my arm to help me into the room, but she’s so tiny, it doesn’t matter much. 

I just start walking, hauling myself up on the bed with a wince, dropping my head in my hands.

“Are you okay?” She squeaks out, looking me over. She should wait for Dr. Lanik or Halstead, but she just starts looking me over. She’s gentle, at least.

"Arms, side, neck muscles," I mutter. "Kicked in the stomach. Muscles need ultrasound, chest x-ray is prudent."

“I know, I know,” she mutters. “I’ll find someone, I just… let me check for a second, okay?”

I nod. I'm trying to grind the sudden jitteriness by the skin of my teeth, and my leg bounces anxiously. 

“Hey. Hey, hey. Look at me, okay? Stop. You’re trying to blank out. Listen to me. Who do you want me to get?”

"Halstead," I mutter. 

“I’ll find him. GImme a second, okay? I didn’t see him in the ED. Just… just wait. I’ll be back, okay? I’ll be back.”

She just backs out of the treatment room, finally leaving me alone. 

I just look around it. Never really realized how small these bays are. Never needed to, I guess. 

Too small. Enough room to work, but not enough to feel comfortable in. Isn't that the point? Everything is sore. 

It's too small. I shut my eyes so I don't have to look at the walls. I hear someone at the door, and I grit my teeth harder.

“Crockett?” 

She’s so loud in my ears. 

I hiss a breath, opening my eyes. The light burns as I look at her. "Manning. How you doin'?" My voice is rough.

She almost pulls back from me when she looks at me. “I scared you,” she says flatly. “I’m sorry.” 

She doesn’t sound sorry.

"No, no," I breathe. "It's fine." My leg still bounces. 

“Did anyone check over you?”

"High level. Waitin' for someone for that ultrasound and the x-ray," I say flatly. My eyes bounce around the room again.

“Thank you,” she says. “You didn’t have to do what you did.”

I look at her. "Do what?"

“Protect me. Try to sacrifice yourself to keep me safe.”

"It's what I do. You have a kid. Better me hurt than you. It's me they needed anyway."

She actually looks surprised. I’m not sure which statement surprises her. “I guess I was just dead weight then, huh?”

"Absolutely not. You helped more'n I did."

She just looks at me blankly again. “I didn’t do  _ anything _ . I just sat there, waiting to die. You’re the one who did something about it.”

"You helped," I repeat, my leg still bouncing.

She barely flinches when Halstead nearly busts in. 

My hand clenches tightly on my lap until I can breathe again, but it's a long damn moment until the kneejerk fear calms so I can look up at him. He looks at least three quarters as scared as Manning did.

“Crockett, man, are you okay? The hell happened? Maggie said they found your phone!”

"Good," I murmur. Only one thing sticks in my head. "That damn Saints background."

“Helped us figure out who it was,” he chuckles. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

"Was outside," I breathe. "Came round the corner yellin' for help, told us to get in the van. Needed supplies. Took Manning in, I stayed in the van. Took us to the house. Jay came."

He already starts checking me over. Manning takes a step back, looking down at her hands. 

“What did they do?” He says softly. 

"Got kicked in… in the stomach," I mutter. "Cuffed, hands above me, then behind. Pulled in my neck, arms, and side." 

“Alright, we’re gonna try an ultrasound and an x-ray. You think you can handle that?” He asks softly, already prepping the machines. 

"Just do it." I just want it over. I need it over, and he hasn't even started. I know I can’t turn to Manning for support. She just steps back, still half dazed, but the other half is starting to come out, and I’m not sure I like what I see. 

Halstead finishes the x-ray before I really know he’s started, and he’s on to the ultrasound without another word. I don’t know if he’s trying to be helpful, but either way, the silence coming from him feels deafening. 

I feel the wand press into my side, and I flinch, automatically curling in as I bat it away. I suck in a breath.

As soon as I try to bat it away, a hand curls around my wrist, trying to stop me. 

I jump back, the touch feeling like a burn, and I make myself small for a half second as I breathe. "Don't  _ fucking do that. _ "

Manning backs away, looking at me both out of fear and anger. “I’m just trying to help.”

"Doing…  _ that,  _ whatever that was, doesn't help," I say shortly. My breath is too fast, too hot in my chest. "Don't fuckin' mess with a kneejerk reaction. It doesn’t end well."

“What, kind of like you trying to kick the gun away?” She says shrilly. I hear Halstead trying to calm her. “You could have gotten us both killed!”

"Did you happen to have a better idea? The guy passed out, Manning. I needed it away from him if he woke up again." I try to stretch my shoulders, wincing.

“My better idea was  _ surviving! _ ” She cries. “Not going off half-cocked!”

“Natalie, I think you should leave,” Will says. 

“No! I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do right now, okay?” She’s getting louder now.

"Just… Jesus, Halstead, you done?" I breathe. "I need out." I slide off the bed, and I try to stagger for the door.

“Hold up, hold up,” Halstead says, and I feel his gentle hand on my shoulder. For a moment, it doesn’t feel so gentle. 

I flinch, and God, I  _ know  _ it's him, but I flinch enough to whirl on him. He cringes, almost trying to defend himself from whatever was coming. 

“ _ Jesus,  _ Crocket, you’re okay!”

"Sorry, sorry," I say under my breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I don’t hear anything coming from Manning, but I see security coming over, still as I have my hand raised to Will. I look at my shaking hand, then back to Will, and I deflate. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

I’m just pulled back against the bed, and Halstead tries to stop him, but it’s no use. We all know protocol.

I struggle, and I know I shouldn't, but I  _ have to.  _ I just try and squirm away, my breath coming in gasps. "Get- get away from me-"

“Hey!  _ Hey! _ He’s fine, he’s fine—” Will tries, but Manning just cringes in the corner. My wrist gets pulled down to the side of the bed, and I feel the restraints before I see them. I reef on them, trying to get free. My left wrist, then my right. 

"Let go!" I'm trying to brace my foot on the bed, trying to get away. I hear the quiet crying from Manning in the corner. 

“Natalie, _ get out _ ,” Will orders again, pointing towards the door. It’s like she freezes, doesn’t know what to do, but doesn’t leave. Immediately, Choi is in the doorway. 

“Dr. Halstead, you’re too close to this, you need to step out,” he orders, looking from me to Natalie and back. 

“Uh, I’m sorry?” Will says in disbelief. “You think you—”

“Step out. Now.”

Will just holds up his hands in defeat, giving me an apologetic look. I barely register it. I try, but it's gone from me as I try to wrench free.

“You need to stop fighting,’ Choi says, almost coldly. “The sooner you stop, the sooner we can get you outta here, okay?”

_ The sooner you stop- _

"No, no, no-" I chant under my breath, and grows louder the more frantic I get.

“Crockett, Crockett, stop,” Choi says steadily. “I need to finish checking you over. The sooner you calm down the better.”

I flinch, but it's out of my mouth before I can check it. "That's what you all say!" I scream at him. I barely see Manning as she leaves, finding comfort in Maggie’s embrace. I can’t. I’m fucking tied down. 

Choi holds up his hand. “Hey,” he tries in a calmer voice. “Hey. I don’t want to have to sedate you—”

I try to scramble back as far as I can, but I'm fucking tied down. "Don't fuckin' do that."

“You are  _ not helping, _ ” I hear Will from the hall. 

“I need help in here!” Choi calls out to the nurse’s station. 

I try. I try. I yank as hard as I can, and my cry turns into a scream, a wail as I  _ can't get free.  _ The help Choi yelled for arrives, and I see the tiny blonde. 

“We’re gonna sedate him, I need you to—”

_ “No, _ ” Monique says defiantly. 

“No, what?”

“You’re not going to sedate him,” she says. 

“Are you defying—”

“Yes,” she says suddenly, pushing him out of the way and reaching for the restraints. “Hey, Dr. Marcel, hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

I let out a sobbing breath. "Monique." I don't fight as she releases my wrist. I just watch her silently, chest heaving. She just leans over the bed, struggling to reach the other restraint, but Will makes it back in the room, giving a dirty look to Choi as he leaves. Will rips the other one from my wrist. 

“Hey, bud, hey. It’s okay. We got you.”

Monique mutters under her breath. “Poor guy got attacked  _ twice _ tonight. Jesus.” I’ve never heard her so mad.

I laugh once, and it's pure hysteria. I clamp my now-free hands over my mouth until it stops, and I finally just shut up. Monique just shuts the curtain to the now gathering throng of onlookers, effectively shutting off their entertainment. 

“I’m so sorry,” Will says under his breath. “Between Choi and Manning, I don’t know who’s worse.”

Monique lets out a stressed giggle, but she touches a hand to my shoulder, just barely, like she wants to comfort me but doesn’t know how.

I shiver. "Will, I want to go home," I say quietly, but my eyes remain on Monique's hand at my shoulder. She pulls away just barely, giving me a warm smile. 

“I know. Jay’s here. He’s gonna take you home in a minute, once I finish lookin’ over you.”

“I called Kate,” Monique offers. “They’re gonna meet you at home.”

I nod. I can feel the shutdown. I hate it. "Thanks." She just nods quietly. Everything she does is quiet. Only now do I realize she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand just inches from mine, like she doesn’t quite know what to do.

“You’ve got some pulled muscles, but you’re gonna be fine,” Will says softly. “Make sure you take a few days, okay?”

“Already spoke to Dr. Lanik,” Monique says, then almost looks ashamed. “Sorry. I should have let you. I just thought…”

I take her hand gently, squeezing it in mine. "Thank you. I appreciate it." My voice is hoarser now, but I attempt a smile. Feels more like a grimace. 

There’s a brief knock on the doorframe, and once Monique gets up to check, she pulls back the curtain to reveal an exhausted Jay.

“Hey, man, you good?”

I look up at him, and all I can do is shrug. "Thank you," I murmur.

He just shrugs, looking to Monique, then Will. “Can I take him?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Will says. “He’s as good as he can be.”

The comment seems so ominous now. 

I slowly get up, wincing. "Thank you." He just moves around to help, but doesn’t touch me, like he knows. I’m sure he knows. 

“Kate and Mouse’ll be waiting for us,” he says. “Let’s get you home.”

Once I'm up, I just lean into him. I trust him.

Before I blink, we’ve cleared the ED. He clears his throat. 

“You good?” He says, not looking at me. I know what he’s asking. It’s not physical. 

"No," I say in a small voice. "Take me home."

“Don’t worry, man. I’m gonna get you home. Always gonna get you home,” he seems to mutter absentmindedly.

"You're a good one," I whisper. 

“I do my best,” he chuckles. “I do my best.”


	36. When the Violence Causes Silence (We Must Be Mistaken)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett suffers what he could count as his third abduction—the second in so many months. The Gerwitz Cavalry comes to the rescue, but when Kelley, Raz, and Raelynn all end up at the apartment, they all decide it’s time to let it all out: starting with Raelynn.

_ In Your Head, They're Still Fighting _

**March 6, 2020** **  
** **2123 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Kate**

I can’t stop pacing. I refuse to stop wearing a hole in the floor in front of his apartment. 

Taken. _ Again _. Seriously? Can he not catch a break? 

And today, of all days. Today. I’ve been near tears all day anyway, but I’m afraid it’s not going to stop. 

I hear my name said a few times, and finally, hands on my arms, forcing me to stop moving. I flail away from Greg’s grasp. 

“No. Don’t ‘Kate’ me. This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. He’s been through enough.”

Greg just lets out a single chuckle. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s been through enough. He has. But we’re here for him, remember?”

“That’s not the point!” I say. “I should’ve—I should’ve been with him. I should’ve stopped it.”

He brushes the hair back from my face. “Kate, you can’t always be there, monitoring him, sheltering him. He knows you’re there for him. And he’s desperately gonna need it when Jay brings him here.”

He pulls me into his arms. I nearly fight him, but I decide it isn’t worth it. 

“Hate March,” I mutter into his chest. 

“Me too, babe. Me too.”

“Fuckin’ shitty month. No one likes March.”

He smooths my hair down. “You’re right, no one likes March.”

“Hey, have you heard from anyone yet?” 

I look up, and see Will, still in scrubs, skidding to a stop in the hallway.

“No, man, we just got here,” Greg says. “Heard from Jay, said he was bringin’ him here.”

“Was he hurt?” Will asks.

“Nothing major. Cuts and scrapes. Definitely probably didn’t feel good with his…” Greg drifts.

“Oh, you mean the healing bullet wound from the first time he got taken?” I snap. 

Greg, though, locks his jaw, and looks down the hallway to the next pair of footsteps. Quickly, I wipe my tears and turn around to see Crockett and Jay.

Crockett is staring at the floor as he leans on Jay, and he looks exhausted. 

"Hey," Jay says quietly. "Figured I'd bring him home. Glad you're here." 

Crockett, though, says nothing. Greg, he takes a tentative step towards him. “Hey, brother,” he says quietly. “You got your keys?”

With a slow, almost jerky movement, he pulls them from the zippered pocket of his still bloody jacket, holding them like he's not sure what to do with them. Greg takes them and goes to unlock the door. 

“Hey, Crockett, why don’t you let me take your jacket?” I ask. I glance tentatively at Jay. He just nods once. 

He doesn't look at me, but he slowly starts to undo the jacket, and goes to slip it off when he just… stops moving. 

I’m in action mode. Greg opens the door, and I direct the Brothers Halstead back with a flick of my wrist. 

“Hey, Crockett, why don’t you and I go inside?” I say, trying to catch his eyes. 

He finally glances up, barely, and I can hear the whisper. "Yeah, okay."

I lead him into the apartment, and nod to let Will and Jay know they can come in. 

“Here. Let me take your jacket,” I say.

He slips it off the rest of the way, relinquishing it to me. His eyes land on it, and he just stares at the blood.

I toss it to Will. It just needs to be gone right now. “Why don’t we sit down? Mouse is gonna take you, okay?”

Greg reaches out for Crockett’s hand. 

He stares at it, and after a moment, takes it. Greg leads him to the couch, and starts murmuring to him, still holding onto him. 

“Jay,” I whisper. “What the _ actual fuck _ happened.”

He straightens. “Perp got him and Natalie at the hospital,” he starts. 

“—Natalie okay?” I interrupt. 

“Yeah, yeah. She’s fine. Got dragged into a van, forced to help a crew. Guy had a gunshot wound to his leg. Took them to a secondary location, perp… perp had a son. Kate, you know I can’t tell you all this.”

“Tell me anyway,” I growl. 

“Long story short, let Natalie out, was gonna let Crockett out, but he tried to kill himself. Crockett jumped in and ended up saving the guy’s life.”

“Crockett didn’t get hurt, though?”

“Cuts, scrapes. He’s… physically, he’s fine.” Jay’s eyes slip to Crockett on the couch. “Mentally? Guy’s been through hell.”

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “Okay. We… we got this. If you need to leave, go. We… we’ve got him.”

Jay nods once. Will lays a hand on my shoulder before the Halsteads leave together. 

I turn my focus back to Crockett. 

The door opens again, and Kelley blows her way in, yanking Raz behind her, laughing. She's loud, and bouncing, and it's so jarring compared to the gravity in the room.

just stands up as soon as they come in, and I see him make a cutting across his neck gesture. 

Kelley stops moving, and she looks at him, then to me, and then registers Crockett on the couch. 

"Rough day at work?" She says, still more chipper than I think she should be.

I hear him drop his voice low. I just take his spot on the couch, rubbing circles on Crockett’s back.

“You hear that call about uhh… a abduction today?”

"Yeah, it was on the scanner, heard they got released, too," Kelley says, and she's looking to Raz for help.

Raz can’t stop looking over here. The look of recognition appears, and he whispers something to Kelley. 

"Oh, God," she says, and she jumps forward. "Crockett, oh God, are you okay?" 

He can't help the flinch, between the sudden movement and her shrill voice, and he just sighs heavily.

“Don’t crowd him,” I whisper, I chide. I realize this might be one of the first times Kelley has really experienced this from the other side. I almost feel bad, now. 

Maybe it’s the second. Maybe I’ve lost count. 

But she’s trying. She’s trying and although he doesn’t realize it now, her being here will do some good. 

“Crockett, what do you need?” I whisper, touching my hand to his shoulder. 

He takes a breath, letting it out again. "Feel like I'm there again," he says absently, rubbing his wrists, and they're red. But he's staring off at something I can't see. "Back there."

“Look at me,” I whisper. My hand touches his cheek. I can’t help it. 

His eyes come up to mine, and they're dull. It's like there's nothing, no-one there.

Like he’s hollow. 

I can handle the freak outs. I can handle the flashbacks and the yelling and the terror and the nightmares. 

I can’t do this. 

I try to swallow my utter panic, but it’s threatening to boil out. 

Kelley steps forward again, and she's starting to cry. 

"'Kett, 'Kett, honey, come on. Say… say something," she says, and I can hear her. 

It's like he can't. 

I can’t let him go down this road. I sit on the coffee table, right in front of him, shifting his knees so I can get as close as I can. 

“Crockett, listen to me. You’re not there. You’re here. Look at me.”

I lean forward, hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to focus on me. 

He glances at me, then back down to his hands. 

Kelley buries her face in Raz's chest, and I can hear her crying. 

Crockett just sits there, staring at his hands.

“Crockett,” I say sharper. “Look at me.”

He shuts his eyes.

I close mine too. I only have one more shot. 

“Crockett, _ listen to me.” _

This time, it comes out in Pashto. 

His eyes don't open right away, but I can hear the small sharp intake of air.

“You are not there,” I continue. “You are here, with me. Did they speak Pashto? No. No they didn’t. You’re here, with me. Can you look at me?” 

His eyes land on mine, and I can see the dullness cut, just a little bit.

“What can I do?” I say, still cradling his face. “I want to help. We want to help.” 

I gesture with my head towards the others, still congregating in the kitchen.

"I…" he says softly, then swallows. "Too much happened." He looks down, then back to me, and he's almost shaking. "Help."

“I’m trying. We’re trying. I…” I drift, and I can’t finish the sentence. 

"Kate," he murmurs, almost a little desperately. "I just need to… I need you to…"

“What do you need? Tell me what you need. Can’t help unless you tell me.” I switch back to English. 

He sighs deeply, and then hunches forward. "Keep me here," I hear him say, muffled. "Don't let me go. I saved a man tonight, Kate."

I go back to the couch, back beside him, and Greg steps in where I was sitting before. I do what we do best— I start running circles over his back. 

I don’t want to know what Kelley and Raz are thinking. I’m almost afraid to know. 

“You saved a man, yeah,” I say quietly. Greg takes both of his hands in his. “And you survived. You did. And it’s over.”

He glances to where his hands sit in Greg’s, and he nods. "Then why do I feel so hollow?"

“‘Cause you’ve got so much inside of you to begin with,” Greg says. “A good heart. A gentle soul. A hot ass. Sorry. I got carried away.” 

I smack him lightly. 

“Point is, we’d be worried if you didn’t feel this way. Means you’ve got a soul, a heart. Well, an ass.”

He nods, and he takes another breath. He looks at me, and there's light. It's faint, but there's light in his eyes.

“There you go,” Greg says. “Remember…. remember what we talked about last week?”

"Yeah," Crockett mumbles. "Yeah."

I’m unsure about what he’s referencing, but I’m wary. 

“Remember, eye of the hurricane? What did I tell you?”

"It'll dwindle. It'll get smaller," he says quietly. 

“Yeah, that’s right, brother! And what do you need in that hurricane eye?”

"The lifeboat," he says, a bit steadier.

Lifeboat? What extended metaphor is this?

I jump when there’s a knock on the door. 

* * *

**Raelynn **

I wait for a moment, and there’s nothing. I wonder if he forgot? At any rate, I knock once more. 

The door opens, and Kelley stares out, eyes red and wet. 

"Raelynn? Hey," she looks back into the apartment. "It's kind of a bad time."

“Are you alright?” I ask, the panic setting in. “Is… is Crockett alright?”

She hesitates, looking back once more.

“What’s happened?” I ask. I hate this. I can feel the fear. I shouldn’t be this fearful, but after what he said to Mouse at Mardi Gras, I don’t know what to think. 

She looks conflicted. "Mouse," she calls gently. "Crockett, it's Raelynn."

There's a muffled voice, but I can't make it out.

“Please,” I say, trying to hide my frantic thoughts behind that stubborn British exterior, “Let me talk to him.”

She steps back to let me in, and moves to where Raz stands. Raz, where he’s usually bouncing and happy, he looks… scared. Worried. Like he’s in an unfamiliar place, and can’t find his way out.

“Hello, Raz,” I say, brushing my hand on his shoulder as I pass. 

And then I see him. Crockett sits on the couch, Kate next to him, Mouse in front of him. Mouse slides over on the coffee table, without looking at me, and I take it as an invitation. 

“Crockett, my dear,” I murmur, setting down my bag and sitting down in front of him. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

He looks up at me, then closes his eyes. "Hey, Rae," he says quietly, forcing a half-smile. I don’t like the looks of it. I don’t. Not at all. 

I look to Mouse and Kate, but neither will make eye contact with me. 

I lean forward and brush Crockett’s hair back, I touch his cheek. 

“Please. Tell me what happened.”

The words are out as I see him flinch at the touch, pulling backwards a bit. 

I feel it. I feel the rejection deep. I feel it until I stand up, and I nearly start to pace. Keep it together. Don’t lose control. Breathe. 

“I… I am absolutely fed up with this… with this group’s inability to share. I know you are all close, and you have your family, and-- and I respect that, I do. But if… if I want to be a part of this, I’m going to start needing to know things. I need to know what you’re going through, Crockett, and if you’re not going to tell me, I... “

I deflate, and I see the eyes of everyone on me. 

“Full disclosure,” I whisper. “That’s all I want. Full disclosure. No… no secrets.”

I hold my breath in my chest. 

I hear Crockett's own ragged breaths, and he's staring at me. "Don't leave," he whispers, and I almost don't hear him.

It’s out of my mouth before I stop it, and I know I can’t turn back.

“I have a daughter,” I say. “Genevieve Lynn. I… Evie. She… I was teaching in Paris, got pregnant after a one night stand. She’ll be eight this year.”

There. There, I said it. It’s out. 

Crockett is still staring at me, and his eyes are wet. 

“I should have told you. I should have said something from… from day one. I just didn’t know how you would react,” I say to him. And then I look around the room. “Quite frankly, I didn’t know how any of you would react. Especially after my ridiculous behavior at Mardi Gras. I… I don’t get out much, and I went a little wild, and I apologize.”

"She's like you?" Crockett whispers.

I scoff. “Too much. She’s in second grade at the British International School,” I say, my hands shaking as I unlock my phone. “She… she loves it there. Loves science and math, hates history, of course. Just my luck. She’s taking piano lessons but she despises it. Do you… do you want to see her?”

I clutch my phone tightly in my hands.

He just nods. I can’t stop my bloody hands from shaking as I show him the photo on my phone. I hold my breath. Both Kate and Mouse lean over to look, too. 

This is it. This is where I lose them. Please, don’t let me lose you too. I’m throwing a hail Mary, and I need it to land.

Crockett looks to me, and he smiles. It's a small smile, nothing near his normal one, but it's raw, and it's _ real. _

"When this is all over," he breathes. "When all this is done," he gestures vaguely. "Can… Can I meet her?"

I realize, as I stutter in silence, that I’m not breathing. I gasp in a breath, fighting back the tears. 

“Y-yes. Yes. Absolutely. She… she knows all about you already,” I shrug. “In… in fact, she knows about all of you.”

He smiles. "I… I want to meet her." He leans into Kate a bit, sharing with her a look. A long, significant look, it seems.

And then he turns to me. 

"Full disclosure," he says quietly. "You deserve to know. I'm done hiding it, done hiding the fallout." 

He opens his mouth to speak and then… nothing. "Kate, Mouse, _ help. _"

Mouse touches his knee. “You know what? Crockett, I… I’ll start. I’l… I’ll start. Y’all should know anyway. Crockett and Kate do.” 

Kate glances at him, and he almost deflates a little, as she tries to speak to him through her expression. He just looks away, looks… somewhere else.

“Alright. Full disclosure. Okay. So. Grew up with my grandma. Mom left, dad died, that’s that. But I was… kind of an idiot. Tried college. Didn’t take. Joined up. Army Rangers. Did two tours in Afghanistan. Jay and I… that’s where I met Jay. Chicago, gotta stick together.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “Until… we were… the lead humvee. Got me a medical discharge. When I got home, I bounced. Started hacking things I shouldn’t.”

“Like a DOD satellite,” Kate chuckles.

“For that I take full responsibility,” he says, glancing at her. They share a look. It’s short, but it’s deep. “Jay, he made it back, became a cop. First, I was a CI, then, I was their comm specialist. Enter… enter Kate.”

He looks at her like the sun came out. She glances at him, glances away. Falls into that same expression he did. 

“Similar shit that he went through, actually,” she starts. “Grew up in Canaryville with the Halsteads. Parents were… neutral. Let’s call it neutral. I went to college at UIC, and then when I realized Jay joined up, I did too. Spent eight years in the Army. Until Nangalam.”

And then her eyes go dark. She seems to drift for a second, and then Mouse brushes her hair from her face, and she seemingly wakes back up. 

“It was… October. 2015. I was in Nangalam, talking to some Pashai women. Bomber… bomber took out half the squad. Building collapsed. Waited for help to come. Took a day and a half, but help never came. I.. Taliban, ISIS, I don’t know. They found us first.”

I can’t help but draw a gasp. 

“Shot me. Right here,” she says, pointing to a spot on her left shoulder. “Should’ve died. Woke up in Landstuhl. Medical discharge,” she says, almost in a sing-song voice. “Ended up back in Chicago, and as soon as I did… as soon as I got off, headed for… Navy Pier, I think. Yeah. I got caught up in a six car pileup. Dead of winter in Chicago. Started… started responding. Helped save a few people before Firehouse 51 showed up. Met… met all of them before it was over.”

She wipes a few tears before continuing. “Jay, Will, they took me in. And once I got a place to stay, I… I got a job. Actually, I…” The tears come harder now. “My buddy Al got me a job. He barely knew me, and he believed in me enough to get me that damn job at UIC.” She closes her eyes tight, and I know she’s trying to breathe through whatever trauma she’s about to share. 

But she doesn’t. Instead, she says, “And that’s when I met Mouse.”

He leans forward, wipes tears from her face, kisses her on the cheek. I’m almost tempted to look at Crockett, but I can’t. 

“Long story short…” she starts, but shakes her head. “No. You all should know. They… they had been chasing a serial killer. Serial… arsonist. Rapist. Found out later I had saved him in that pileup. He wanted me. And so… I volunteered. I… I went undercover, and I went to take him out. But he got to me first. He… he, uh, took me to that old church. Up in West Town. St. Boniface. He strung me up. Beat the shit out of me. When I tried to get loose, he shot my kneecap. Tied me back up. Started… started the place on fire. He… put the noose around my neck, and he.. He tried…” She drifts again. This one seems deeper than the last, but this time, she pulls herself out. “He tried to rape me,” she finally says, just as hollow as everyone else seems to feel. “But he didn’t. I snapped his neck. I broke the asshole’s neck.”

Crockett lays his hand gently on her knee, humming softly a line of a song I don't recognize. But she nods.

“Mouse found me. Mouse and Jay. And I recovered. I got… I healed. And then…”

“I fucked it up by leaving,” Mouse interjects. 

“You didn’t fuck it up,” she mutters. “You didn’t.”

“I reenlisted. I joined back up. Another convoy. Helmand. First… first humvee went, started fightin’ back, rocket to the second. I was… I was near the second. Woke up in Chicago. Tried to push Kate away, hard as I could. Wanted… wanted to die. Until she finally just… literally dragged me out of the gutter. We were engaged barely a year later,” Mouse seems to finish.

Crockett shudders, and then I hear Kelley.

She comes closer, hand still in Raz's. 

"I came from Canada, small town, and I went through the academy, and Firehouse 51 took me in," she says. "And then I started at Molly's bar, and I got attacked in the alleyway. Wasn't bad, but I went for counseling that the CFD mandated. Met Dr. Charles. And then I started at Gaffney as a Life Enrichment Officer. I'd done the job for all of… three days? And then I went back home and got caught in a home invasion."

Raz just… looks at her. It’s a long look. It’s a tired look. It’s a…. a sad look. Like he wishes he had been there. 

"I landed in the hospital, and I got a free room there for a couple days. The first night I was awake, I… I couldn't sleep. And then I started coughing, and I couldn't breathe, I… I thought I was going to die."

Crockett takes a sharp breath, and Mouse just takes his hand again. It’s a gentle gesture.

"And then there was him," she says, pointing to Crockett. "He came into my room, he restarted the IV I'd ripped out, he helped me calm down. He was there. And he stayed. To talk to me. And then I slept. He was back the next night, and… and you brought food, remember?" She looks to him. "Salmon, avocado salad. The next night you brought Cajun chicken alfredo. And you knew I had nowhere to go. You let me come with you. To… to here." She gestures around to the apartment. "You took me in. It was status quo for a while. And then… May 2019." She stops for a second, and she looks almost scared.

Mouse straightens. Kate starts wiping her eyes again. The panic seems to set in for a moment, but I breathe. Control. It’s about control. 

"I was on Engine by that point, and I went into a huge mattress fire. My team, myself, my Lieutenant, and Ritter… we were hosting down a boiler tank. We knew that it was going to explode, we just needed to give the others time to get people out. I went in there not expecting to come back out."

I can’t help but look at Raz. His knee bounces. His clenched fist, sitting on his knee, starts shaking. His expression stays stoic. 

"The damn tank was ready to blow and then… then Truck team was there. Kidd, Mouch, Cruz… and Otis. They told us, 'time to go, come on', and so we went. Otis put… he put himself between that tank and me. And then it blew. The damn pressure wave picked me up, threw me and Otis." Her voice is almost monotone, recounting it like something from a textbook.

"Otis was burned badly, I found out later. I was knocked out good. Dislocated shoulder. I… I woke up in Gaffney, my lieutenant by my side. Herrmann. And then I found out that Otis had died. Crockett came to me. He spent the night there, he and Herrmann. I… I told Kate to go away," she says, almost ashamed.

Kate shakes her head just once, like it was all forgiven. 

"I healed physically. And not even close mentally. Because a month later, the day before I was supposed to go back to Engine, I…"

She looks to Mouse, then makes up her mind. "I tried to throw myself off my balcony. That one," she points. "Kate and Mouse took me in, instead of admitting me. They… they saved my life."

Kate lets out a sharp breath. I see Mouse absentmindedly touch the cuff on his wrist. Raz…. Raz looks devastated. 

"And now, here we are. I'm here. I'm alive. I'm here. And… I'm not leaving," she says, looking to Raz and reaching out for him.

He takes her hand. There’s a different mood between them now. A shift. Something… something different. Not just the kids hanging off each other in a club. Something real, something deep. 

"My turn," Crockett finally says, looking up to me. "You know about my family. I grew up in NOLA, mom was from Tehran. My younger brothers and I grew up speaking five languages. It was normal. Grew up in the roughest area of town, and… it showed. Both of my brothers turned to drugs. Dad was an alcoholic. Mom… I was closest to her. And she died in 2003. Dad drowned trying to find my brother during Katrina. I almost drowned. I got pretty sick after that, and once I was better enough, I started I with disaster relief. I…" he looks to Mouse, and he searches his face for a moment.

“I got you, brother,” Mouse whispers. Crockett just breathes. 

"I got abducted one night when I was walking to my car after a late class. Took me back into a bad area of town, wanted to exploit me for money. I got beat up a bit, and… and I ran. I got out. Lost one brother in 2006, his wife… his wife shot him in self-defense after he tried to kill her." There's anger in his voice, and then it fades. "Lost my other brother in 2010. Worked in Tulane Med for years, even was head of the ED for a while. And then I needed a break. I needed to get out for good. I packed up my car and made it to Chicago. Been here ever since. Was here for almost a year, met Kelley, and for the first time," he whispers, nodding to her, "I wasn't alone." 

He sighs deeply. "I met Kate the day of the factory fire, right, Katie Kat?"

She chuckles, just once. “Dr. Marcel. Was… was barely a year ago, wasn’t it?” They share another long look.

"She… I barely knew her. But she and her then fiance, they saved my sister. They brought her back. Somewhere in there, I…" he chuckles, and it's almost a dark sound. "I was inside the ED when some moron planted a bomb. Almost killed me and my coworker. Blew out the old damn knee again, too," he says, looking up to me.

It’s all I can do to simply wipe the tears from my eyes. 

"And then… Kate and Mouse got married. And then Chicago went reeling. Some bastard had formulated an infection, a contagious one, flesh eating. Found cases all over Chicago. Most died. I lost four people on the table."

He takes a moment to breathe, nodding to Kate.

"PD caught the guy. And then it was over. I'd been up for… three days? Four? I'm not sure. I tried to drive home, almost crashed the car pulling out of the parking space, so I gave up and went to find the bus." 

He dumps his head in his hands, mumbling something.

Mouse just leans even closer to him, hands on his knees. “C’mon, man. Take it to the other side. You got it.”

I wonder, just for a moment, the dynamic between the two. It just seems as though Kate and Mouse had suffered trauma for so long, they just knew how to deal with it better. They had the coping mechanisms, and they just had to share it with the others. 

Maybe that’s why they’re so close. 

"I got attacked in the alley behind the hospital," Crockett says hoarsely, and he's yanking at his collar, hand shaking. 

Mouse takes his hand, he holds both in his. It’s tender. It’s sweet. 

"I never knew why. I didn't report it, didn't want to bother. Was too exhausted to care. But I shut down. Didn't even talk to Kelley. Finally Kelley called in the Cavanagh-Gerwitz cavalry, and Kate came running." He takes a moment to give Kate an almost smile, then nods again. 

“You found out a lot more than I ever thought I’d share,” she says quietly. She grabs for his hand, and Mouse lets go of one so Kate can take it.

"Kate pulled me out from the hole I was in, even when there was dirt being shoveled on top of me. The first week back to work, I found myself hiding our Medical Director and my coworkers in a supply closet, and I stood between them and two men with guns. And I'd do it again. I'd do it again!" He takes a shaky breath, and his eyes close again. "And then… January. January rolled around, this year." He takes a moment, and he shakes his head. "Kate, I- I can't do it-"

“Yes, yes you can. You gotta. Get it out. Like Mouse said, take it to the other side,” she whispers. 

"January, I was pulled off the street into a van, taken to a warehouse to try and save one of a criminal group. I couldn't. He'd lost far too much blood, so when his heart stopped, there was nothing I could do. They beat the shit out of me," he says quietly. "And then… I…" he looks to Kelley, then Kate. "Katie Kat?"

This time, Kate starts to turn pale. She takes a deep breath, and exhales. 

Like Kelley, her voice sounds like she’s reading from a textbook. 

“He… uh, Voight. Sergeant of police intelligence, Mouse’s former boss. Friend of ours,” she continues. “Hank called me in. Brought me on the case. I… I uh, cleared the warehouse with Hank. Very… very illegal. You… you guys don’t know this. You’re sworn to secrecy. I could… I could go to jail if anyone finds out. I…” That textbook voice is back. “I shot the man holding Crockett. He got off a shot. Hit Crockett. I… I uh,” he starts shaking a little. “Got the bleeding… bleeding stopped. Put my hand… I…”

Crockett frees his hand, pulling her into his side. "I'm right here with you, I'll take it through with you, darlin'."

It’s like the dynamic shifts. When he can be the caregiver, he forgets everything else. When Kate can be the caregiver, she forgets. I know, suddenly, why they’re so close. They’re so damn similar.

She takes in a deep breath. “I held him together. Took him to Gaffney. Crockett… he crashed. I told Hank I wanted them dead. I had to do it. Asshole… taunted me. I took him out. I beat the ever… the ever living shit out of him. I would do it again. I would do it again,” she repeats, letting out a breath.

Crockett's shaking, but he's holding her the best he can. "I saw Kate and Hank there, and I… I almost wished they would've turned around and let me die there," he whispers, and he squeezes Kate, but looks up to me.

She starts shaking her head, almost laughing, as the tears run down her face. “Not an option. Not going to happen. Nope. I’m not going to let that happen. Not… not going to let that happen, okay?” She’s nearly hysterical. 

He lays his head on top of hers, resting it there for a moment. 

"Rae, that's why I was going dry at the gala. I was… I was still on the painkillers. Still am," he whispers. "That's why Will said I wasn't supposed to do transfers."

I didn’t realize I was crying. Crying… crying hard, I realize. I don’t remember starting to cry. 

"Rae," he says, and his voice is near panic. "C'mere," he says, looking to me. 

“I didn’t know. I had no idea. I didn’t know. I… I’m so sorry,” I hear myself.

"You didn't know because I didn't want you to know," he says softly. "You asked me, but I brushed you off each time. That's why I remember almost crumpling up after I tried to lift you at the club," he chuckles, but it's a sad sound. "But Kate pulled me through. She chased me down, grabbed on tight, and she refused to let go, even at…" his voice breaks, and he's started crying. "Even at her own risk." 

“Irish and stubborn,” she breathes.

I look at her, and suddenly, I’m pulling her into a hug. I don’t know what else to do.

Crockett leans back into the couch and then chuckles. 

"Rae," he says, voice raw and shaking. 

“Crockett, I’m so sorry,” I say. “I should have never come in here with that attitude.”

He hushes me, reaching for my hand. "No. I should've been upfront. But, I want to apologize. I didn't forget about you today, Rae, I… I didn't. I would've come to see you, but-" he sobs once, forcing the words out. "Me and another doctor, we got pulled off the sidewalk in front of the hospital. To help another criminal group, we… we saved his leg. He took us to his house hideout, and released the other doctor when CPD showed up."

“Should’ve been there,” Kate mutters. 

"You couldn't have been, cher, it's alright," he says absently. "He let me go. I was leaving when he put the gun to his head, and I had to stop him. I had to. I couldn't let him do that. The gun went off, and he got hit, but he's alive. He's… he's alive."

“You saved him, brother,” Mouse mutters.

"I know," he says. "I know. But God, it hurt. He fought me, kicked me in the stomach." He sighs. "I'm so tired," he says in a whisper. "They cuffed us, cuffed my hands above my head in the van. God, it hurt. Thought they were gonna kill Natalie."

“Are you okay?” Kate says, almost frantic again. She reaches out, to his side, but doesn’t touch him. “You… you aren’t… are you okay?” 

"Sore," he mutters. "Kept pulling. Worse than when I ran the course." 

“‘Kett,” Mouse says. “I told you, you shouldn’t have done it.”

"I had fun, okay?" He almost snaps. "I enjoyed it! I needed it, man. I needed it. This? I didn't need. It was bad enough getting taken. But then I had to worry about Natalie too."

“Hey. Hey, it’s over. It’s done now. You got through it. And you’re on the other side,” Mouse says. 

He nods, and then looks to me. "Rae," he whispers. "Forgive me for not telling you. Please. I wasn't sure what you'd say to a broken man."

I don’t know what even to say at first. All I can do is shake my head. “No. No, ‘Kett. You… you and I, we’ve only really just met, Crockett. You… and you owe me nothing. I… I didn’t want… I couldn’t tell you about Evie, because… I thought I would… I thought I would lose you. You’re not a broken man. You’re… you’ve never been broken. If you were broken, you wouldn’t feel the way you do.”

He reaches for me, wincing as he raises his arms, but tries to pull me close. "Thank God," he says. 

I can’t help but feel like… feel like maybe, just maybe, I had breached the walls of this little family. Maybe they would all let me in. I hope to God they would let me in.

He leans into my touch for the first time tonight, and he stays like that for a moment before raising his head, eyes red. 

“Thank you,” I say. To him first, and then to the others. Across the room. Mouse, and Kate, and Kelley, and Raz. “Thank you all for sharing.”

And then Raz opens his mouth. At first, he’s quiet. It’s… strange, but he clears his throat. 

“I’ve… I’ve never…” For a second, he pauses. Collects himself. “I’ve had a good family. A supportive one. I wasn’t… I wasn’t always the best student, so I didn’t… I didn’t want to go to college. I didn’t think I could make it through. But I found a job I loved. And… I was comfortable with that. I’ve… I’ve never really had any friends,” he says, his voice simple, his voice… just there. “I’m… I was… I _ was _ lonely. I’m just glad you all trust me. I’m glad you trust me. And I’m glad to be here. Yeah. Glad to be here.”

"Hey, kid," Crockett says, raising his head. He smiles at him, and it's sweet. "Come here, man. C'mere." He stretches a hand out to him.

Tentatively, he reaches out to Crockett. He’s unsure. He’s so unsure. But he does.

"You've got us, man," Crockett whispers. He takes his hand and gently tugs Raz into him, wrapping his arms around him.

I sigh. I don’t know how they feel, but I know what I feel. I know I feel… better. I feel less weight. I feel, for the first time since I came to Chicago, welcomed. 


	37. Who Said That Every Wish Would Be Heard and Answered?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We all deal with our trauma differently. Crockett is no exception, when he slips deep into a memory of his mother the day after the abduction. He's still a mess, especially when the universe sends him Mouse.

_ Somebody Thought of It and Someone Believed It _

**March 7, 2020** **  
** **2045 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **  
** **Crockett**

I wake up, almost sliding off the couch.

Kelley left food in the fridge for me, and we'd passed each other in our own hallway as I came home from work (paperwork, all damn day) and she left for her shift. 

I just dropped my bag and coat and got the couch. 

But I blink awake, and I look around. 

I'd left the lights off, so I reach over and click on the lamp beside me. 

There's light suddenly, but it's dim. 

I reach for my meds, I know they're in my pocket. 

I shouldn't swallow them dry, but I do anyway, gazing around the apartment. 

It's too quiet, and I pick up the remote, and I don't even look what playlist I put on.

It eases from The Pretenders, to Nat King Cole, and I let my eyes close again, the exhaustion of the last few days hitting again. 

I can hear soft piano chords, and I'm suddenly awake again, and I'm sitting up before I really know what I'm doing.

The lamp casts soft shadows across the apartment, and I just sit there, letting my mind flow over everything from last night. The 'full disclosure'.

I can't help the stab of guilt that I never even mentioned Martine. But, I can't yet. Not after Rae talked about her daughter. Evie, she called her. Same... same age as Martine, seven.

"Evie," I say aloud, testing the name on my tongue. It feels heavy. Heavy in the air, and on my chest.

The song changes, and I listen... it's so familiar...

"Although you see the world, different from me..." 

I can't help the smile, or the sudden tears, and I sing along softly. 

"Oh yes, sweet darlin', so glad you're a child of mine," I whisper. 

Carole King, _ Child of Mine. _

Mama's favourite. She'd play it over and over. 

_ 'Dance with me, 'Kett,' she'd say, smiling. _

_ 'Always, Mama,' I'd tell her _.

From the time she taught me to dance when I was ten, to being fourteen and being taller than her, she'd sing along as I spun her around. 

'Slow your feet, 'Kett.'

'Yes, Mama.'

From the time I chose my college, to the day I graduated high school, she'd always burst out laughing as I dipped her mid-song, hanging onto my arm. 

_ 'Don't drop me!' She'd squeal. _

_ 'Never, Mama.' _

From the day I started my undergrad and moved out, to each day I'd visit, almost everyday. Almost. 

To the day I had gone to visit, and I walked in the kitchen door to find her hanging onto the sink, crying in pain. 

I click 'repeat' on the song, then let my eyes close, letting myself into the memory I'd boxed away.

_ "Mama," I surge to catch her, and we hit the floor together. She's hanging onto me, and I smooth her hair back, frightened. _

_ "Mama, what is it? What can I do?" _

_ She sits up, and I suddenly realize how small she is. _

_ "'Kett, sweet, I'm..." she trails off, but I know. _

_ I know. _

_ "You're sick," I say, almost resigned. _

_ She just nods, and I pull her close, picking her up - oh Lord, she's light - and carrying her into the living room. I sit down in the armchair, her still in my arms, and I just hold her. _

_ Like she used to hold me, when I was still small enough. _

_ "How long have you known?" I ask, and she whispers back, "Three months." _

_ "Mama," I say, and her head bobs where she's resting on my shoulder. _

_ "You're in school, sweet. Your father and I agreed not to worry you." _

_ "Mama, I'm twenty-one, I'm going into medical school," I whisper. "It's you. I'd rather know and worry, than.... than... how long do they say?" _

_ She's still, but her hand comes up to brush back the hair from my face, and I can't help it, I lean into the touch. _

_ "They said maybe a year." _

_ I nod, but I feel the tears starting. _

_ "Crockett, it'll be alright," she says, and I just pull her close, and she curls into me. I can feel the tears slipping down my face, but she doesn't mention them. _

_ I can't help but feel the painful irony of the son holding his mother the same way she had held him. _

_ "'Kett," she says, and I hum, swiping my sleeve under my eyes. _

_ "Yes mama?" _

_ "Dance with me." _

_ I stand gently, setting her on her feet, and we sway. It's gentle and slow. And she's humming that song under her breath again as I hold her, and God, she's tiny. How did I not see? _

_ "I love you, Mama." _

_ "I love you, Crockett." _

I realize I've stood, and I'm standing in the middle of the room, the song still playing. 

It's a silly idea, but....

I close my eyes, and I reach out, like I'm holding her. And I spin. I sway, like I'm dancing with her again. 

The song ends and restarts, and I can almost feel it; I almost feel like I'm dancing with Mama again. 

And then a verse of the song hits my ears.

_ "You don't need directions, you know which way to go, and I don't want to hold you back... I just want to watch you grow. You're the one who taught me you don't have to look behind..." _

And suddenly I stop, my arms falling to my sides. 

She's gone. That was almost eighteen years ago, it's not now. 

The feeling is gone, and I'm bending over, hands on my knees like the wind's gone from my chest. Lord, it feels like it is.

It feels like when she took her last breath in the hospital, and she didn't want to die alone, and she whispered her one last request to me.

_ "Dance with me, 'Kett." _

_ And I climb into the bed beside her, pulling her close, holding her. _

_ She's so tiny. She's... she's still herself. Still the same laugh. The same smile. The same laughing brown eyes. _

_ The same hug. _

_ She's humming the song again, and I stretch across to the bedside table, minding her oxygen tube, and I hit play on the CD player as the soft piano chords fill the room. _

_ "Oh, yes sweet darling, so glad you are a child of mine," Mama sings along, and I smile, humming with her. _

_ My tears start long before she stops. _

_ "Tell your father I love him," she says over the music. _

_ "Yes, Mama. He loves you." _

_ There's a pause. _

_ "Tell your brothers I love them." _

_ "Yes, Mama. They love you." _

_ I glance to the chart with the DNR. God, she's only forty-two. I look away, focusing on her. _

_ And I close my eyes, holding her hands in mine. _

_ "I love you, Mama." _

_ "I love you, 'Kett. I'm so proud of you. You're going far, sweet," she says, brushing her fingers through my hair, so soft I can barely feel it. _

_ "I love you," I whisper again. _

_ She's near asleep, and she doesn't answer right away, and for one long moment I wonder if she's already gone. _

_ I say it again, and then I hear her voice. _

_ "I love you, Crockett. I love you." _

_ I hold her gently as the pauses between each breath get longer. _

_ It's when the next breath doesn't come, I speak one more time. _

_ "I love you so much, Mama." _

_ I hope she hears me. _

_ I know she did. _

I blink, and I suddenly want nothing more than to have her back. 

It was almost eighteen years ago, and I'm here still crying about it.

I'm falling on my knees, covering my mouth as the sobs come. 

I'd give anything to dance with her again. 

And the moment I'd been dancing with Kate as she talked about Tehran, in Pashto... it was like Mama was here again, and suddenly it hits harder.

I'm curled up, and I can't help it. 

I can't help crying. 

I can't help it. 

I miss her. 

I'm singing along, and it's nothing but breathy sobs along with the words now, but I don't care.

I suddenly feel so heartbroken but so light. I can breathe easier than I have in the last week. 

The ache in my heart is easing, and maybe it'll never be gone, but it's manageable. 

"Oh, yes sweet darling, so glad you are a child of mine..."

* * *

_I've heard it too many times to ignore it_

**March 8, 2020  
****0825 Hours** **  
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
****Crockett **

I sigh. I need to see Dr. Charles again. 

I need to do it before the anxiety headache sends me over the edge. 

I feel sick. 

Kelley's fine. She's fine, she's off doin' her thing. 

I'm staring at my bottle of antidepressants and suddenly the anger bubbles up. 

I've picked up the bottle and thrown it across the room before I think, and it hits the door with a clatter. The noise jars my head, and I groan, letting my head fall onto my hand.

I hate these meds. I hate them. 

They give me headaches, half the time I'm nauseous. 

I even had to switch my migraine medication. 

I feel the sudden urge to talk to someone. 

I can't call Kate. Or Mouse. I can't keep running to them.

I can't.

My head pounds, but I stand up anyway. 

I reach for my phone, and I punch in the numbers. Now that I made the decision, I don't want to anymore. But I do anyway. 

_ "You've reached the answering machine of: Dr. Daniel Charles, Head of Psychology. Please leave a message at the tone." _

"Hey, Dr. Charles, it's Marcel, was wondering if you had time for a quick chat sooner or later. Thanks."

I hang up, already exhausted. 

I finally leave my bedroom, and I make coffee slowly. My head is pounding, and I just want to sleep. 

I know Kelley struggles. She does, and sometimes I have trouble helping her. 

I can't tell her I've been struggling with it for eighteen years. 

I can't. There's no way I could tell her that. I can't tell any of them that. 

So I put on the smile, and I change into my scrubs. And I walk into work, hoping as always someone might take me out. 

And I smile at Maggie. I just turn away when I hear Manning tell Choi how I look like I was partying too hard last night and maybe I should be checked. 

I smile at everyone. 

I finish my damn half shift at three, and I go to see Dr. Charles. 

And then I fall asleep in Dr. Charles' chair. He lets me. When I wake up, he's there. 

And we talk. He still doesn't know all of it. I ain't tellin' him, either.

I leave his office like I'm trying to move through water, and I fall apart in the staff room. 

I can't help it. 

I'm just… I feel too numb to care.

Too dead inside. 

I find myself reaching for the pain medication.

I swallow my usual two. I think of swallowing more, but I stop. 

No. 

I can't. 

I put them away, and I fall apart. 

I don't care. 

I'm too tired to care who sees.

I want to call Kate. 

I want to call Mouse. 

I can't. 

And then my phone rings. I look. It’s Mouse.

I heave a heavy breath. 

Well, ain't that timing?

I pick up. 

"Hey, Mouse, how's it goin'?" Voice even, normal.

“Hey, man!” He starts, and then stops. “What’s wrong.”

"Woah, hey," I say. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"

“Something’s wrong with you,” he says. How the hell would he even know? 

"Mouse, the hell you even tryin' to say?" 

I don't think I texted him. Pocket dialled? Doubtful.

“I’m comin’ over, put some pants on or whatever. You want food? I’m bringing food.”

"Mouse, hey, firstly, I'm in the godawful staff room at Gaffney, just finished my shift, second, the hell?" Why the hell am I fighting this? Stop it, Marcel.

“Even better. I’m bringin’ you food. What do you want? Pizza? Burgers? Chinese?”

"Uh, whatever," I tell him.

“Now you sound like Kate,” he grumbles. “But she doesn’t want to eat, because she can’t move right now! Fine. Burgers it is. I’ll be there in… ten minutes, give or take.”

"Yeah. Yeah, a'right. Thanks, man," I say, a little quieter. 

“Oh, I’m not gettin’ off the phone,” he says after a moment of silence. I hear the drive-thru speaker, and he orders a bunch of french fries. An irresponsible amount of french fries.

I chuckle a bit. Gerwitzes and their irrepressible french fry cravings.

“So, how was work?” He says. I hear him fumbling with what sounds like coins.

"Dandy."

“Yeah, okay, so pretty bad, huh?”

"Hmm? Am I _ that _ easy to read?" 

“I mean, for me, maybe. For others? You’re Goddamn _ Finnegan’s Wake _.”

"I take that as a hefty compliment," I say, dropping my eyes low as two of my colleagues walk in the door. "Very great, indeed."

“You’ve got surveillance?” he says quickly. “Thanks!” he says, probably to the fast food window. 

"Hmm," I say, chancing a look up and disliking the look I receive. "Yeah, honestly."

“Who is it?” Mouse grumbles. “Sounds like ones we don’t like.”

"The usual." I nod at Manning, and she turns away, but that's nothing new.

"They're gone."

“Manning and Choi, I’m assuming?” Mouse mutters. “Listen, Manning and I are fighting, but she doesn’t know it. Choi, I don’t know about him. Rubs me the wrong way, and he always looks like he wants to fight me. Does he not realize I was a Ranger? I did the Nasty Nick in a snowstorm!”

"Yeah, I know, I know," I mutter. "Naval reserves, cocky guys. And gals. Usually the guys are worse. Choi and I used to get along, so not quite sure." I shrug. "Anyway."

“So about that day of yours. Sounds shitty.”

"All I said was 'dandy.' You Macgyvered out the rest. For all you know, it was fuckin' peachy."

“All in your tone, my man. You’re tryin’ to sound normal, but something’s off. Don’t try to tell me I’m wrong. I’m parking. Can I just like, walk in? I mean, after the gala, I practically own the place, right?”

"I can come out."

“What, you don’t want me to start a fight with Choi? Because I could. Would it brighten your day?”

"Not really," I say, and I sigh. "Up to you."

“You done with your shift?” He asks suddenly. 

"Yeah, I am." Small mercies. 

“You drive today?”

"Yeah," I say after a second. I have to think about it.

“Well, piss,” he grumbles. “Eh, oh well. It’s nice. Wanna eat outside?”

I nod, and then remember he can't see it. "Sure."

“I’m outside the ED. Did you just try to nod, and then realized I couldn’t see you?”

I huff as I haul ass out the staff room and through the doors. I think I meet her eyes once. Fuck that.

"I am obviously transparent and I do not enjoy that."

“Natalie again?”

"How the _ fuck _ do you know that?" I cry as I get outside. He’s waiting for me on the bench a few yards down from the doors. He just wiggles his fingers at me, hanging up the call. 

“Context clues, my dude. I’m evolving.”

"You're creepin', is what you are."

I drop my bag on the ground and I sit down. I take a breath, the freezing March air in my lungs.

“Got you a coffee,” he says, gesturing with it to me without looking. “So. We gonna talk about it, or?”

I sigh. "What are we talking about?"

He doesn’t look at me. In fact, he just peers at Gaffney. It takes him a while to speak up again.

“Shit’s been weird between us. Since after the… the, uh, incident on the way to breakfast. And then full disclosure. And trust me, I know when something’s wrong with you. I can feel it in the wind or whatever. And I know you. You’re not gonna bring it up. You think I’m… you think I shouldn’t be bothered, or some shit. Well, here I am.” he says, looking at me finally. “Bothering _ you _.”

"I don't even know how to," I say softly.

“Here. I’ll show you. ‘Hey, Crockett, shit’s been pretty wack lately, hasn’t it? I’ve got a review comin’ up for work soon, and I’m freakin’ the fuck out. And Kate and I, this past weekend….’” he sighs. “We’re fine, but that’s a conversation for another day. Tanked it completely during a drill the other day. Ruined _ that _ class’s perception of me. Kelley may or may not be angry at me for completely ignoring her texts all weekend, but in my defense, I was a little busy with my wife. Anyway. Hey, Crockett, _ how is your day. _”

The last sentence comes out weirdly aggressive.

I chuckle a bit. "First, that's a hell of a lot to unpack. Kelley's not pissed. I think. I don't know. I pissed her off yesterday, she's ignoring me right now. You're entitled to your wife." I sigh, glancing to my bag. "My day is pure shit, Mouse."

He eats another handful of fries. I’m afraid if I look inside the bag, it’ll be like Pandora’s box. 

“Tell me about your day, then.”

I don't look at him. "Been one of those weird hazy damn depression days," I admit quietly. "Been fake smilin' all day. Didn't even tell Dr. Charles the whole story. Hell, I fell asleep in the chair and he let me. Most sleep I've gotten in one go in a week. And…" I glance down to my bag again and shut my mouth.

“What’s in your bag, then?” He says, his mouth full of food.

"Nothin' important." 

“So, somethin’ super important. Crockett, how are you doing?” He asks quietly.

"Like hell," I say, more truthful than I would have wished. 

“What can I do, brother?” He says even quieter.

"I thought about it, Greg," I finally say flatly. If I'm scared of the truth, the sooner it's said is supposed to help, right? 

I see him almost absentmindedly rub his wrist. It’s a tic at this point. He realizes he’s doing it, stops, and runs his hand through his hair after picking his Cubs hat off his head. He settles it back down before speaking.

“Alright. Shit happens. What made you think it?” He says, his voice no different than before.

I shrug. "Been thinkin' about it for the last eighteen years, damned if I know why."

“There’s always a reason,” he says, sipping his own drink. He almost pisses me off, he’s so casual. “It’s not the primary thought. It’s a reaction. So what are you reacting to?”

"Can't sleep a night, man, I honestly can get maybe half an hour, forty minutes, and then I'm up again. It never ends. Makin' the migraines more frequent. I'm losin' my mind, Mouse. I find myself thinkin' shit, and zonin' out. I am not… I'm… fuck that," I finally say. "I'm gettin' irrational."

“Well, there you go. You _ know _ you’re being irrational. That’s a helluva first step. You’re exhausted. I bet you that’s at least a solid… I don’t know, seventy-two percent? Of your problem. If you sleep, less migraines, and less thinkin’,” he says, tapping on the side of his head. “It would help with everything. So how can we solve that problem? Because I love you, man, but I am the furthest thing from a medical professional. I stubbed my toe the other day and cried.”

I smile. Do I have enough energy to chuckle? Probably not. 

"Probably should bring it up to Dr. Charles, maybe sleep aids," I say, staring off across the street. "Just add to the damn pile of drugs I already take."

He chuckles. “Can relate. Between the depression, and the anxiety, and the PTSD, and the inability to sleep, Kate and I could become drug dealers, easy.”

"If you need another supplier, hit me up," I joke weakly, but fuck that, can't go down _ that _particular memory lane. 

“Shit, sorry, dude,” he mutters. “Bad joke. At any rate, who have you talked to about all this?”

"You, Kate, Dr. Charles, Kelley some, Rae barely any," I say, ticking off on my fingers. "All of you have pieces. Still not all the pieces."

“Someone should have all the pieces, brother.”

"I do," I chuckle, but it turns into a heavy sigh.

“Someone besides you,” he says emphatically. “You can’t hold this whole world up by yourself. You’re just gonna end up…. Tired, and lonely, and lookin’ for a way out.”

I open my mouth to speak, but I have nothing to say. I just look at him.

“I want you around, man. I want you trustin’ me with this shit. I don’t want you… pretendin’ to be happy. I want you to _ actually _ be happy. I don’t want to feel like…” he sighs. “I don’t want to feel like the universe was screamin’ at me to call you today.”

I lean over, brushing his shoulder with mine. "God, I'm sorry," I whisper.

He just looks at me, squinting a little, confused. “For what?”

"For… for… well." I fight for words, but in the screaming in my head, I can't find the ones I wanted. "I ain't happy."

“I know. It ain’t a… a switch. Life ain’t like that. It’s more of… of a bell curve. Or some sort of graph, I don’t know, you’re better at that shit than me. What I’m sayin’ is, you’re gonna waver up and down and up and down before you can start to even out. At least then, the waves’ll get less and less. That metaphor got away from me, but I think you know what I mean.”

"Lifeboat," I whisper.

“I know you’re in the eyewall,” he whispers back. “Just remember, I’m in that damn lifeboat with ya. And I’ve got the paddles, and I’m paddlin’ like hell.” He starts miming it a little and drops a fry. “_ Fuck, _my fry,” he says in a small, sad voice. I chuckle, and my eyes are wet. 

"God, we've gotta stop meeting like this," I mutter as I wipe my currently sweating eyes.

“We could go do somethin’. You know. Fun. What do people do for fun nowadays?”

"Only the good Lord in His heaven knows," I murmur. "Preferably not alcohol. Not supposed to drink on… literally every damn thing I'm on. Beyond that, hell if I know."

Mouse just chuckles. “Well, fuck, I was gonna make some suggestions, but I realized something real stupid, Crockett.”

I turn to him, an eyebrow raised. "Yeah?"

“I have no Goddamn idea what you’re into.”

I smile a bit. "I…" I scratch my head. "That's a good question," I say thoughtfully. "Not sure."

“You like history at all?” He says, offering me some fries.

"Yeah, actually," I say, leaning down and eating them straight from his hand. Eliminate the middleman. He just looks up, thinking, as he retrieves a few more and puts them at a more respectable height.

“There's a Museum of Surgical Science down on Lakeshore,” he says. “Always wanted to go. Kate thinks I’m weird. There’s an old school apothecary in Lincoln Square. Merz, I think. Oh, there’s a couple of jazz clubs we could go to! We don’t have to drink, that’s fine. We could eat. Sometimes, I’d rather eat than drink.” He gets a little meek. “Or, you know, wherever you wanna go. Fine with me.”

"I want to go," I whisper, smiling a bit, taking the fries again. 

“You know you don’t bother me when you need to talk,” he says, leaning over towards me, almost so far his hat comes off. 

I open my mouth, and I almost say something self-deprecating like I normally do. And I change my mind. 

I lean closer. "Thank you. I… I usually just… hide it," I gesture vaguely. "And usually flip out in the sanctity of my bedroom. Punched a few walls."

“Hidin’ it is only gonna hurt more,” he says, shaking his head. “Not good. Not good at all. We could always go punch some shit! There! That’s a coping mechanism. Show you some shit. That way, next time I challenge you, you can take my ass.” He stops, squints, and then tilts his head like he’s considering it. “Yeah, pun intended. Pun considered, and intended.”

I choke on a fry, and look at him, eyes watering as I cough.

“You good, dude? Do I gotta like, give you mouth to mouth?” He looks heavenwards. “Please let it be mouth to mouth.”

I cough harder, hitting his arm. What a child, I swear.

“Seriously, man, you good?”

I take a breath, wheezing. "I hate you."

He almost leans his head on my shoulder, looking up at me. “No, you don’t.”

I shake my head. "You're crazy."

“Sure, but I’m your brand of crazy,” he says, straightening. “Can you promise me something?”

I look at him. "What is it? I ain't promisin' nothin' until I know what it is. That's how I ended up drunk in a back alley with no clothes."

He points at me. “Wait, what? I need to circle back to that. I’m not.. Wait _ what?” _

I wave him off. "Irrelevant. You were sayin'?"

“Relevant, but fine. Promise. Yeah. Can you promise me to stop thinkin’ like your problems bother me?” He says. He’s serious at the drop of a hat. “You’re my brother, dude. That goes both ways. Good and bad. Lifeboat, remember? I can’t help paddle if I don’t know how bad the storm is. You gotta let me in. Stop thinkin’ like i don’t want to to know. Because I do. That’s what I signed up for.”

"I can only promise it if you promise to remind me," I say quietly. "If I get dark or some shit, I forget."

He sets down his fries for the first time and starts digging in his pocket. “I ain’t always gonna be there,” he says, fumbling with his keys and pulling off one of his keychains. “But I always keep these with me. I want you to take this. Even if I can’t get to you, you know I’m reminding you.”

He tosses the small piece of metal to me. It’s black, with black rubber along the sides. I read the stamped metal:

GERWITZ, GREGORY J.

13-162-937

O POSITIVE

CATHOLIC

I stare at it, and I close my hand around it, and I'm suddenly in tears. It's like a physical piece of his heart, and the gravity is crumpling me. 

“Hey. Hey, none of that. Sorry. Hey. Crockett, I was hopin’ it would help, not make you sob.”

"God, it helps," I say, and I feel like a damn fool. I clutch it to me, like a damn idiot. "It helps."

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve got the other one,” he says quietly. “These are from my.... My second run at it. They changed them up the second time. First one’s have my social on them. Kate…” his voice cracks. “Kate and I have that set.”

I swipe at my eyes. Need to stop crying like a fool. 

I slip the chain with the St. Luke medal off my neck and add the tag to the chain, putting it back on. I look back up to Mouse, and suddenly all I can do is reach for him.

He just stands up, gestures for me to bring it in. I almost crash into him, wrapping my arms around him, breathing an almost existential sigh.

“See? Now I’m always gonna be there,” he says. “Now you physically _ can’t _ get rid of me. And Kate, really. We’re just hangin’ on a chain around your neck. A constant reminder of the people who love you and adore you and only sometimes come on to you.”

I just hold onto him for a moment. "Only sometimes," I laugh, just a bit. "God, Mouse, you must think this family is insane. First… first Kelley. And now me." 

“Uh, sorry to break it to you, buddy, but I was first.”

I pull him closer, and I nod. "I know. Kind of a shitty thing to be able to say first on that."

He harrumphs, and says darkly, “Rangers lead the way. Hey. I’ve been here before. There’s no reason for me to not try to help you through, too.”

"Not gonna lean on you this whole thing, I promise," I say quietly. 

He holds me at arms’ length. “But you need to know that you _ can. _”

I search his eyes. He's genuine. Deep down, I know he is. But I still find myself questioning sometimes. I can't help it. Growing up in a bad area does that to you. 

I'm spiraling. Stop it. 

I look up at him again.

“Get outta your own head sometimes,” he whispers. “Gets dangerous in there.”

"Damn minefield," I agree. I lean into him again. "If I ever question you," I say suddenly, "know that it's not _ you. _ It's the damn lies in my head, and I have to make sure."

“I know,” he says almost immediately. “But know I’m always gonna remind you I’m here. And that I’ve got the map through that minefield. Like fuckin’ hopscotch.”

"I trust you, man," I whisper. "I trust you." I lean back, wiping my eyes. "Oof."

“You wanna come over?” He says with the enthusiasm of a puppy. “We can get a movie night goin’.”

"I'd be glad to," I say, and I am. 

I feel more alive now that I did earlier. I feel like I'm not trying to run through water. I touch the medal and the tag on the chain around my neck, and I realize I feel loved. I feel love. 

I'm watching Mouse and it occurs to me I was speaking out loud.

He just touches my face quickly, giving me a grin. 

“Love you too, bud,” he says, gathering up our half eaten food and my bag. “Hey, if you play your cards right, Kate might actually let you pick the movie.”

I reach out for my bag. "Hey, you don't gotta carry that."

“C’mon, I got it,” he mutters, starting backwards towards his car. “Movies. C’mon. Start thinkin’.”

He bounces a little on his feet. 

I pause. "I need to get my car home first."

He waves his hand. “You gotta work tomorrow?”

I shake my head. He waves his hand again. “Fuck it. We’ll get it tomorrow. Leave it.”

I follow him. 

"Mouse?" I say softly.

“Crockett?” He says, turning back around and walking backwards, my bag still slung over his shoulder.

"Thank you. You… you're my brother."

He stops, and he waits until I make it to him, and he throws his arm over my shoulder. I’m just enough taller than him that he almost slips a little, but the action remains.

“You’re my brother, Crockett. God knows I need ‘em.”

I smile, my arm wrapping around his shoulders. 

"Always, brother."


	38. Hold on to me 'cause I'm a little unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Kate makes an unannounced appearance several days later, they have their debrief that leads to both Kate and Crockett breaking down… and building each other back up.

**March 10, 2020  
1056 Hours  
210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
Kate**

I knock on the apartment door, holding approximately fourteen plastic bags in my hands. 

Maybe it wasn’t loud enough. I use my head again. 

“Crockett! Crockett, it’s me!”

"Hold on, hold up one second, darlin'!"

After a moment, he pulls open the door, and he smiles at me. "Hey. C'mon in."

He looks tired, but he looks genuine. And that’s fine with me. “Brought supplies,” I say, cringing as I hold up all the bags. 

He reaches for some of the bags. "Supplies for the whole of Intelligence almost."

“Supplies for you!” I say, hauling the rest onto his countertop. “I had drills this morning, and I’ve got class with Rae this evening, so I thought I would stop over and resupply. How are you?”

He shrugs. "Been better. Tired. But… the other night helped." 

I start unloading. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little of everything,” I say. “Have you… have you heard from Rae?”

"Talked to her last night, couple texts."

“And?” I say, putting my hand on my hip. Actually, I bring out the bottle of sparkling wine. “How did it go?”

"We're getting together again soon," he says, dancing around me to put things away.

“Good! Good. Good. After all… all that. God, she has a kid! Did you see _that _coming?” I say, looking for the orange juice. “You want a mimosa? I have supplies.”

He shakes his head. "No… no, I'm fine. You go ahead."

I shrug. “Can’t be brunch without mimosas, but your prerogative. But _Evie. _Holy shit. Didn’t see that coming.”

He smiles a bit. "Seven… seven years old."

I chuckle, finding one of his mugs in the sink. Probably from Kelley this morning. I rinse it out and pour more wine in there than I probably should, and then top it off with some orange juice.

“Yeah. Seven. Does that… does that… bother you?”

He shrugs again, and he sighs. "You're wondering things. Spit it out."

“Nah, I mean, does it bother you that she’s got a kid,” I say. “That’s it. That’s all.”

"No. It doesn't. In a way, I feel…" he stares off with a small smile. "Makes me feel like maybe… this is a good thing."

“Maybe what?” I ask, still unpacking bags. He can put away stuff where he sees fit. I’m horrible at finding where people keep shit. “Makes you feel like what?”

"She's a deep person, Kate. She's someone who I can get to know. She's special."

“She is,” I gesture with my mug. “Saw that from the start.”

"Thank you," he says, looking at me. "For doing… that. Planting the idea."

I tap my head. “Got ‘em every once in a while. A’right. You and I are doing brunch. What you thinkin’?”

"Whatever you want, darlin', you brought the supplies," he says, perching himself on the counter.

“Well, I had an idea,” I say, blowing a piece of hair out of my face. “You got a deep saucepan?” I say, miming what I need.

"Yeah, sure," he says, rummaging in the cupboard, and then swears, stepping back as a few pots come flying out.

He picks one up and hands it to me, putting the other two away. 

"How's that?"

“Perfect,” I say, taking the pan. “That cupboard is a mighty interesting metaphor, bud.”

He snorts. "That cupboard is the reason we're where we are."

I find the recipe on my phone. “I need a saucepan, too,” I say. “What do you mean, that cupboard is the reason we’re where we are?”

He glares at the cupboard as he carefully pulls another one out, setting it on the counter near me. "That damn cupboard and the pots falling out is the reason I had to go to the store for another damn new pot. And then I got so rudely interrupted by an asshole in a van."

He perches back on the counter, trying to see the recipe. I jerk my phone away. At least he’s talking about it. At least he can talk about it. 

“And look at you now. Perched just like Kelley on the countertop, and you’re fine. You’re past it. I’m sorry I’m gesturing with a saucepan. Where’s my mimosa?”

He passes it to me, settling back with a glass of water. "What are you making?"

I press a finger to his lips. “Shush, _a stór _, not now.” I put the saucepan on the burner, start mixing the water, butter, sugar, and salt together. “You’re too pretty to be confused.”

He snorts. "I'll take that as a compliment. You've called me that a few times, what does it mean?”

“_ A stór? _” I ask, waiting for the mixture to boil. “Irish. It’s got a couple meanings, but it’s… it essentially means ‘darling’.”

"I like it, darlin'."

I wink at him. “Thought it fit. Hey, I get the N’awlins version, might as well give you the Irish version, yeah?”

He nods, chuckling, as he leans closer to the pan. "It's good. I like it."

The mixture comes to a boil, so I pull it off. “Where’d I put the flour….”

"Right here," he says, passing it. 

I consult the recipe, then put it back in my pocket. “Cup plus a little more. Hmm.” 

I open it and dump what I think is enough. It poufs a little into the air. 

“Perfect,” I mutter, stirring it into a paste. “So. How is Kelley doing after all this?”

"She's doing okay, actually. She's been… a lot happier the last few days. We had Raz over last night for dinner, and he stayed for movies. He ended up staying the night, and drove Kelley to work this morning."

“He stayed the night?” I ask, suddenly more interested in that part of the conversation. “Oh? How…. how did that go?”

"He fell asleep partway through Mr. Popper's Penguins, actually," he muses. "Right after We Bought a Zoo. Kelley grabbed a blanket, and she just stayed there, and when I got back from the bathroom, they were cuddled on the couch, fast asleep."

“Wow. Raz didn’t say anything? He didn’t have… an opinion, or anything?”

He tilts his head. "He was pretty focused on Kelley. It was like he started gettin' a bit freaked out if he couldn't see her or be able to grab her hand. I took over the snack and drink runs, so the two could stay like they were."

I look over the dough, and it’s forming a ball, so I remove it from the heat. “Eggs,” I mutter, blowing my hair out of my face. If I touch it, I’ll have flour everywhere, so that’s my best option at this point.

“Hey, I can relate. When Mouse finally told me everything, I couldn’t leave his side for days. It’s not their fault. It’s the only way I knew how to fix it. Just be there for him. He couldn’t be there when she needed him, so he’s making up for lost time. Plus, you heard the kid’s story. Poor guy. I don’t get it, you know? I mean, I’ve known him for years, but he was always a good guy. Weird as fuck, but I never had any problems with him. Makes me wonder how long he’s been… I don’t know, waitin’ for… for people like us. God, that sounds sad. Because I’m realizing I’ve been that person too.”

"I think at some point, everyone is," Crockett says, sliding off the counter. "Stay still." He starts messing with my hair, still talking. "Just some find people at different times. Kelley needed him. He needed her. And I'm so glad they're together. I like him." His last few words are a bit muffled, but then he pats my back, going back to sit on the counter.

"One French braid, your honor," he smiles.

I eye my reflection in the microwave. “How the hell did you know how to do that? I can’t even do that.” I find the eggs and start adding them one at a time.

"Used to… well. Used to do my mama's. And Martine's." He stares at his hands, but the smile comes back.

“Oh. _Oh _,” I realize, putting down the dough mix I’m currently beating a pulp out of. I sigh. “Seven. Seven years old. Evie.”

"Hmm?" He looks up. "Oh. Yeah."

My hands are a mess, so I step up to him and kiss him on the cheek. “I know that’s gotta be… that’s gotta be fuckin’ hard for you. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

"Nah, don't be. It's fine. It's… it's not _fine, _but it's okay," he corrects himself, fiddling with the edge of his sweater.

“You’re too good of a man,” I say, gesturing with my spoon. A little bit of dough hits the counter. I clean it up with my finger and eat it. “Too good of a man.” I stir in the vanilla. “Can you put some shortening into that saucepan and get it boiling?”

"Yeah, on it," he says, hopping down and moving around. "How are… How are you and Mouse?"

I start to think about this past weekend. I don’t even know what day was what by the end. I can still feel it. I’m nearly breathless.

"Kate?" He turns around, his hand on my arm. "You okay?"

“Huh? Oh. More… more than okay, actually. You do _not _want to know how Mouse and I are. Not after this past weekend.”

He stares at me, and the gears are turning. And then he goes red. "Oh. _Oh. _" He shakes his head. "Not touching that with an eleven foot pole," he mutters.

“I’m blaming you, anyway,” I say, grabbing a plate and some paper towels to set on top. I start making balls of dough. “You got both of us worked up after Mardi Gras, and we had to put all of that… _somewhere. _”

"You ever start work on that 'bet'?" He asks casually.

I think about it, and I realize something. “Uh. Well. I didn’t realize it until now, but yeah. _Yeah. _A lot. Several times. Shit. Shit, Crockett, we started on that bet."

He laughs, and it's long and loud.

“Crockett, I…” I lean against the counter top, the realization hitting me like that damn eleven foot pole. “Holy shit. We’re doing this. We’re actually doing this. Crockett, I don’t think I can be a mom. I haven’t heard from my own in… twelve years, now? And she was barely there to begin with. I don’t… I don’t have a mothering bone in my body. What makes me think I could do this?”

"Hey," he says, turning me to face him, his hands holding my shoulders. "First off, her shortcomings as a mother won't affect your own ability to be a mom, okay? Not unless you let it, and you're too good for that. Secondly, lies. You do so have a mothering bone in you, many of them." He touches my cheek gently. "Look at what you and Mouse did for Kelley," he says softly. That more than proves my point that you'll be a hell of a great mom, Kate."

“Oh,” is all I can say. “Th-thanks, Crockett. I… I needed to hear that. I did. I… this is gonna happen, Crockett, and I’m gonna need you. I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be insane. I know nothing. But you’re a medical professional.”

I look at the shortening. It’s nearly boiling, so I start dropping the bits of dough inside.

“I just hope… I hope we can, you know?” I say quietly. 

"I have no doubts, Kate. I don't. And you know damn well I'll be alongside you all the way."

“I know, I know. I just… I don’t have a lot of time, you know? And I know we’re just starting, but I’m already looking at… at alternative options, because I’m afraid… I’m afraid maybe our bodies are too broken for this.”

"I'm not worried, Kate," he says, peering over my shoulder. "If anybody could come out the other side of what you two have, it's… well… you two."

I shrug, turning the pastries over with the whisk. Not the best idea, but it works. “You always know how to flatter a girl. I’m just… I’m glad we all got that off our chests the other night. I know it was hell, but… I think we’re gonna come out better on the other side.”

He actually smiles. "Yeah. I think we're well on the way to that. 'After every darkness, there is a light,'" he says, slipping into Pashto.

I chuckle, following his language shift. “Don’t you use those old proverbs on me,” I say, digging around in his utensil drawer like I own the place. I find a set of tongs and start pulling the pastries from the hot oil. “Can you find the powdered sugar?” I continue.

He digs around, then brings it back to me. "My lady," he teases.

I keep making the damn beignets, and eventually, I have quite a lot on the platter I had stolen. 

“I’m gonna need a lot of powdered sugar on those,” I say, finishing off my mimosa. 

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a salute, setting to work.

I fill my mug again. “I needed pastries, thought this was a good idea. I hope it’s a good recipe, I just found an easy one online.”

"I trust you, darlin'," he says. "How's this?"

“You could probably do more,” I say, my voice echoing inside my mug.

He almost giggles. "Diabetes, here I come."

I take one from the bottom of the plate, one of the first ones out, and bite into it. 

“Shit, that’s good.”

He mirrors me, and nods. "Hell, that's amazing!"

“Thought I would try a little taste of your homeland,” I say, turning off the burner and pulling myself up onto the counter. I realize for a second we’re still in Pashto, but I don’t want to stop. 

He smiles. "Thank you." He hops up on the island across from me.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” I murmur, grabbing another beignet from the plate.

"You help," he says simply. "Listen, Kate," he says, almost sounding nervous.

“Spit it out,” I say, shoving more pastry in my mouth.

"The other night, you were talkin', and you mentioned someone. When you mentioned Al…"

Immediately, the hair on my neck stands up and tears jump to my eyes. 

“Al. Yeah. What… what about him?”

"He the same Al I've heard stories about?"

I down the rest of my drink like a shot. “Yeah. That’s Al.”

"What was he like?" He asks softly.

I chuckle. I let my mind wander. 

“The night I met Al Olinsky, I had just gotten my apartment in Chicago. After I came back. Jay had… Jay had gotten the entire intelligence team to help. Well, almost everyone. Atwater and I have talked about that,” I say, chuckling. “He was fighting with Ruzek, getting my couch out of the truck. Next thing I know, he’s telling me he’s got someone in human resources at UIC, and they’re looking for a new associate professor in history. He literally helped get me my job. If it weren’t for Al… I don’t know if I would have stayed.”

He smiles. "He was close with Voight, too, right? Kelley mentioned the two."

“Yeah, yeah. They were tight. They… yeah. He was, he was quiet, but he was always a part of my life. The last time… the last time I spoke to him before he…. He died was right before I went to Germany. To Landstuhl. To Mouse. I just remember him… he heard what happened to Mouse, and he didn’t say a word. He just hugged me. I remember knowing I made the right decision with that hug.”

He nods slowly. "I wish I coulda known him. He sounds like a hell of a man. Voight clammed up when I asked."

“Don’t ask Hank,” I say quickly. “You won’t get a good answer.”

"Kelley said… it was a mess," he says. "That… that it was rough."

“Put a friend in the ground,” I say, wiping my tears. “Must be May!” I say. Damn. I’m nearly hysterical. How did that happen?

"Hey," he says, looking at me, and he's worried. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."

“No, no. It’s… it’s fine. He… he was one I couldn’t save, you know? Couldn’t… couldn’t save Al. But he’s still savin’ me from time to time.”

He shakes his head. "Wish I coulda known him," he says again. "Kel was pretty down about it when she told me. I didn't get a lot out of her. Figured I'd ask you."

“God. Kelley was only on the job for what, six months? When it happened.”

He tries to think, closing his eyes, counting. "I think so."

“God. Last time… last time I went to visit him, it was Otis’s funeral. It was… before Kelley... “ I sigh. “Mouse and I had an argument. Right before I got the call about the mattress fire. We almost called off the wedding. But when we were talking, we talked about it at the cemetery, and… and I didn’t realize it, but we stopped right in front… in front of Al. I thanked him. And I swear I felt…” I find myself drifting again.

"You felt him," he finishes, looking at me.

“He was quiet, you know, but he was always there. If it weren’t for Al…” And then I draw a breath. The realization hits quiet, but sharp. Kind of like him. “Mouse… I would have never gone to the precinct when I did. Mouse would have never… never seen me. Asked Jay about me. Well. Wow.”

Crockett smiles once. "Hell of a man. Lot to thank him for." He pauses. "What'd he look like? Kelley said he was quiet but you always knew when he was there. Always knew he'd be on the lookout."

“Older. He and Voight were… were around the same age or so. Always in dark colors. Never without a hat. His beanie or one of those, like newsboy caps? I don’t know. Had one helluva mustache.”

He smiles again. He's quiet for a moment, staring at the counter. 

“I… I don’t know all the details, but he was in prison. At the end. Got… got stabbed. Died at the hospital.”

"He… what?"

“He was in-in prison,” I repeat, staring at the countertop pattern. Starts looking like desert camo. I blink it away. “He got stabbed in prison and he died at the hospital.”

"He…" Crockett takes a breath, slipping off the counter and coming to sit beside me. "That's… that's rough."

I wipe my eyes. I realize I still have powdered sugar on my hands, but whatever. It’s fine. 

“While I was still in the hospital, recovering from… from St. Boniface, he was one of the first. I mean, of course, there was Mouse, and-and Jay and Will, but he was…” I chuckle. “He brought me lilies. I only found out later that Mouse caught him and Ruzek looking up on the internet about ‘Irish flowers’. Didn’t… didn’t say much. Just sat with me for a while, holding my hand. That… that was one of the best parts about Al. You didn’t have to talk with him. Just needed... “ my voice cracks. This is the first time in… in years I’ve talked about him. “Just need him around, you know?”

Crockett's beside me, and he pulls me into his side. "Yeah. Yeah." 

“After…. After Mouse left, I… I went on a little bit of a bender,” I admit. “Ended up at Molly’s. Was… was a little bit drunker than I should have been. Herrmann, he cut me off. Said ‘this is for your own good, kid’.” I try affecting his accent, but it doesn’t quite work. “Mouch, he sat with me too. Actually moved down a couple bar stools. Next thing I knew, Hank and Al were there, too. I don’t know. I’m not sure whether Herrmann called Hank, or what. They’ve got their own thing goin’. But before I knew it, I was just…. Losing it. It was the first time I had really processed that he was gone. I remember Al just… running his hand over my back. Like I was a sick kid. I was. I was a sick kid. Woke up at Herrmann’s the next day. He took me home. When I got back to my apartment, Trudy and Mouch… came over. Made me eat something. I don’t know… I think Hank felt guilty. If he didn’t sign the order, to let Mouse go back into the service, Mouse would’ve never left. I still think he feels it. But Al… Al was always there.”

"That's the sense I'm gettin'," he whispers. 

After a moment, he pulls away sharply.

“What?” I ask, reaching for another beignet. I really don’t want it, but the most I can do right now is eat. 

"May 2018." 

He slides off the counter, moving away.

"May… May 2018."

“Yeah. Yeah,” I say, feeling his mounting panic. "You… you were here, then, weren’t you?”

"I… oh God, I'm sorry," he says quietly. 

“It’s not your fault,” I murmur. “It… he just didn’t have anything left in him, I guess.”

"No, Kate," he says, staring at me. "I lost him. I lost him on that damn table. It was him. It was _him."_

I’m trying to follow his train of logic, but I think it derailed a while back and I’m just finding the debris. “What are you talking about?”

"I was the surgeon," he says, sliding down the cupboards and sitting down hard on the floor. 

The realization hits. And it hits hard. I can’t breathe for a second. “You… you mean to tell me… you… you’re the one? You worked on Al?”

He covers his face with his hands, and he's muttering. "God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It was me. It was me. I couldn't… I couldn't save him, I'm so sorry."

I don’t even speak. I can’t, really. All I can hear is his apologies. That, and gunfire. Hello, when did that start? Stop. Stop it. I can smell burning wood. 

“No. Crockett, no,” I say, my voice weaker than I had originally planned. “Crockett, it… you couldn’t. It’s not your fault. You.. I’m sure you did your best. I’m sure of it.”

"Kate, I'm so sorry," he says again, muffled through his hands. "God help me. Forgive me."

“What… what is there to forgive?” I say, exasperated. “You… you did your job, Al did his. Al… e died doing it. He died protecting the people he loves. You… you didn’t have a hand in that, Crockett. You did your best. You… you did your best.”

He finally looks up, his eyes red. "Why the hell don't you blame me?"

“Why the hell _would _I?” I exclaim. I’m off the counter. I’m pacing. “You. You piss me off sometimes. You… you of all people, as a _doctor _, should know that sometimes you can’t save everyone. But you’re so… you just can’t figure that out, can you? You’re not Superman! You’re not superhuman! And as much as you want to save everyone, you can’t! You can’t save everyone! Trust me, I know!”

He's shaking his head. "I became a doctor so I could, okay? So I could save people, Kate, because in downtown New Orleans people died, and I was sick of it," he snaps.

“And I became a soldier so I could save people,” I snap back. “We had enough good people die, and _I _was sick of it. You don’t see me blaming myself…. Blaming myself for all the people I couldn’t save. Maybe… maybe just a few, but still. Not everyone who dies in Gaffney or-or NOLA is your fault.”

"I couldn't save Al. I couldn't. I lost him on the damn table, and I felt so sick. I let the other surgeon go out to tell them, I couldn't face the family… I don't understand why no one but myself blames me for it! He died, on _my _watch. _My _table." He's almost yelling by this point. "My fault."

I just stare at him. I’m out of breath. I can’t help it. I close my eyes, and the headache is back. “I cannot blame you for his death because you did everything you could to prevent it. And some things can’t be prevented.”

"Oh, Kate," he mutters, hauling himself off the floor, turning away from me. "You lost Al, because I couldn't work quick enough."

“I lost Al a long time before he got to your table,” I snap back. 

"Yeah, well, maybe if I had kept him _alive, _maybe- maybe Intelligence, maybe Voight could've gotten him out, maybe the fact I couldn't do my Godforsaken job properly cut that short, huh? Ever think of that?" He doesn't even turn around, just keeping his back to me. "Maybe you would've gotten him back."

“Where the fuck is this coming from? ‘Kett, this is irrational! This is ridiculous! You have always done everything you could! We all have! We all have.”

"Yeah, Kate, I do everything I can," he says, almost turning around. "It's never enough. Somehow it's always still falling short. Couldn't save Al. Almost missed the fact that Jay accidentally almost OD'd because the meds and the alcohol mixed. Couldn't save four people with that damned infection, one of them was an infant, Kate, you know that? A fucking _infant. _Couldn't save the guy I was abducted to save. Couldn't save my brothers, Kate!" he shouts again. "Couldn't save my brothers, I couldn't save my niece. I couldn't save my mother. Always falls short."

He turns around, meeting my eyes. "So. Be angry at me. Be upset. Blame me. God knows I deserve it," he finishes in a whisper.

“I can’t be angry with you,” I say, my voice cracking. “You’re so focused on the people you didn’t save that you’re forgetting all the people you _have _saved. And that…. that is a much larger number than I think you even realize.”

He steps forward. "I failed, okay? Okay, Kate? Losing Al hurt you. Hurt everyone. Why can't you be angry with me? I…" he stops, closing his eyes. "At least if you hit me, I know we're on the same page."

“You… you are so fucking dense, Crockett! What will it take to get through to you? Losing Al hurt, but you’re not the one who stabbed him, are you? No. No, you didn’t. You’re the good guy, here. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

"What gave you that idea, Kate?" he scoffs at me, brushing past me.

“Because you don’t think _you’re _a good guy.”

"No. No, I don't. I don't," he says, sighing. "Used to think so. Not anymore."

“Why the _fuck _did it change?”

"Well, I don't know," he drawls, but it's almost mocking. "Couldn't save my brothers, couldn't help them. I'd argue they got so fed up with me trying to help they pushed me away. Sort of feel responsible for that. As a former older brother."

“You’re not a former older brother,” I say softly. 

He sighs, turning around to face me. He looks almost… afraid. "Former son, too," he says quietly. "Couldn't help M- my mom much. Couldn't get to Dad in time."

“At least you tried,” I say. I feel the lump in my throat. “And they know you tried.”

"At least," he says quietly. "At least Mama died hearing that I love her. Dad _drowned _after I yelled at him, hearing me say things I wish I'd never said."

“I don’t even know where my parents are anymore,” I harrumph, crossing my arms. “May 22, 2008. Last time I spoke to them. Told them I enlisted.”

He slumps onto one of the barstools. "I stopped feeling like I was a good man the moment Martine's hand left mine. Yeah, there had been pieces breaking off before that, but that… that was it. That was the moment the rope I was holding to got cut."

“There are things you can control, and things you can’t. That….. that wasn’t your fault. You may not think so, but I do. And that should be enough.”

He nods numbly. 

"Come here," he whispers, holding his arms open.

I close the distance between us, and when he hugs me, I feel myself sigh. 

“I believe enough for the two of us, you know. That you’re a good man. Because I wouldn’t love you this much if you weren’t.”

He nods, pulling me closer. "I'm sorry for what I said."

“It wasn’t against me. You should apologize to yourself. Not me.”

There's a hum, and a chuckle. "Noted. Sorry for telling you to hit me, though."

“I don’t hit unless I’m in the ring or you swing first,” I chuckle.

"I wouldn't," he says softly, hand rubbing my back. "I wouldn't do that. Not intentionally."

“Because I would kick your ass,” I mutter.

"Yeah, yeah you would." 

He sighs, pulling back enough to wipe his eyes. 

“Why do we always end up doing this?” I chuckle, finally letting him go. I head back to the kitchen to clean up.

"I wish I knew," he says softly. After a long moment, I hear him stand up, and he comes up behind me, reaching a hand on mine. "Leave that. Dance with me, Katie Kat."

I smile. I always smile over the nickname. “What’s gotten into you today, Crockett?” I say, taking his hand.

He's humming softly, and he smiles a bit. "Been oddly sentimental the last few days." He pulls me gently into the living room and pulls me close. 

“Yeah. Yeah, me too,” I whisper. “Rough… rough time of year.”

He leans his cheek on my forehead, and just sways with me, spinning me around, humming under his breath. 

“What’s that song you got playin’ in your head?”

He chuckles, and suddenly there's a wet spot that's landed on my forehead. 

"Although you see the world, different than me," he sings softly, but he only gets a couple of lines out before his voice cracks, pulling me close again.

“Carole King?” I whisper. “My mom loves her. Loved her. I don’t know anymore.”

"Mama's favorite," he says, almost too quiet to hear. "She'd always sing it. 'Dance with me, 'Kett,' she'd say."

“What was she like?”

"She was always dancing, always singing. Always laughing. I was taller than her when I was fourteen," he chuckles. "Didn't stop her from pulling me onto the couch and just… holding me. Spoke Pashto with her. Dad knew it… but it wasn't his thing. It was Mama's."

“She taught you from a young age?” I ask. “She… she sounds like someone I would love.”

"Grew up with four languages," he says softly. "You would love her. She… she'd love you."

“You think she could handle me?” I chuckle. 

"She had three sons, of course she could." 

He sniffs. "She'd love you," he says again. "She was… she was so tiny."

“Compact,” I correct. “More love per square inch.”

He laughs softly. "Yeah. Yeah, that's it. She…" he sighs.

“What did she tell you about Tehran?”

"Her home. So beautiful, so green. So much love, family was everything." He pauses. "She'd sing the songs from there. She'd… she'd tell us… tell me about her home. It was like she lit up."

“It was the only place…” my voice chokes, and I can’t stop it. “The only place that felt… safe. We didn’t spend much time there. I wish I had more time.”

"You told me they were so friendly, so… like family."

“There was this family there,” I say, still dancing with him, “The little girl, her name was Kiana. She loved me. Lord, she loved me. She would wait for me in the morning. Would hold my hand and walk the street with me.”

"She sounds like a sweetheart," he chuckles. 

“Biggest brown eyes I’ve ever seen,” I say. “Her mother, Soraya, she was so kind. I never met the father. But that was okay. Between those two, I felt like I was… I was doing good, being there.”

"You were," he says in a whisper. "So much good."

“I… we went back to Afghanistan after Tehran. It was like… night and day.”

"Was that the same… the same tour that you…?"

“2015,” I breathe. “Spent a couple months in Tehran before we went to the Korengal Valley.” I close my eyes.

"Oh," he whispers. "Oh."

“Like a… a paradigm shift,” I say. “I wish I knew where that… that scarf ended up. The pretty one. Matched my impossible eyes.”

I feel like I’m floating. My throat hurts, like there’s sand in my breath.

"Hey, Kate," he whispers. "Katie Kat."

“Couldn’t sleep this weekend,” I say. “After… we all just talked about it like, like it just… like it was part of our history, and that’s fine. That… that’s fine. I just couldn’t… everyone needed to know. Everyone deserved to know.” I realize I’m clutching onto him. I’ve stopped dancing. I try to blink, but it’s like the whole world shifts on its axis.

"Where are you, Katie Kat?" He asks softly. "Where you runnin' off to?"

I can taste it in my mouth. Gone is the safety of the New Olreans pastry. It’s all dry, like I can’t breathe and haven’t had a drink in days. A day and a half, by the sun. 

There's arms around me, a soft voice. "Where are you, darlin'? Show me, so you can come back."

“Trying,” I say, shutting my eyes. No, that’s worse. What’s worse, the things I see when I shut my eyes, or the things I see when they’re open? God dammit, make it stop. When I couldn’t breathe before, I feel like I’m hyperventilating. 

"Darlin', come back to me, Katie," he whispers, and he's cradling my face. "Right here. Need you to breathe."

Yeah. Yeah, he’s right. Darlin’. That’s not a name I was called before. I’ve been called a helluva lot, but not that New Orleans’ drawl. That’s new. That’s here. That’s present. I’m in the present. I’m breathing. There. He’s right there. 

"Right here, darlin', open your eyes for me."

I listen to him. I thought I had my eyes open. When did I close them? God. I feel like I’m floating. But this time, his touch keeps me tethered.

He's smiling at me, hand still gently on my cheek. "There you are, darlin', I was wonderin' where you got to."

I put my hand over his, and I feel the tears rolling. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I just… I’m sorry.”

"Don't apologize, cher," he whispers. "It's part of you. You've done nothing to me." He kisses my forehead, his thumb brushing away the tears.

“‘Kett? Sometimes… sometimes you’re the only one that can get me out.”

"Let me tell you a secret, darlin'," he breathes. "Sometimes you're the only one who gets me out too. Two sides of the same coin."

“Then you know the truth in your heart,” I whisper.

He sighs. "Just hidden, sometimes."

“You’re a good man,” I say. “And you’ve saved plenty of people. Some of us, more than once.”

He rests his forehead against mine. "I… I do my best."

“That’s all I ever want from you,” I say, exhausted. “That’s all I’ve ever asked.”

"Then you have it, Kate."


	39. Just to Be With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a false alarm, Kelley has to get that energy out… somewhere. She enlists the help of Gallo to blow off some steam by free climbing the side of the Firehouse—and subsequently giving Herrmann a medical event. But sometimes, Kelley knows, it’s best to just… sit.  
In the meantime, Crockett gets together with Raelynn and makes a new friend in Evie, her seven year old daughter. And even in the spirit of full disclosure, Evie reveals some truths that Crockett decides aren’t worth calling Rae out on.

_ ** I'd Climb Every Mountain and Swim Every Ocean ** _

**March 12, 2020** **  
** **1412 Hours** **  
** **Firehouse 51** **  
** **Kelley**

When we get back to the firehouse after a false alarm, I'm sad. I hate false alarms. The fact that they waste time and resources aside, they get me keyed up and ready to go and then…. Nothing.

Way too much energy. 

"Marcks, would you sit your ass down somewhere? Sick of your pacin'," Herrmann grumbles, passing me. 

I follow him into the common room, and I just want to _ do something. _

"Blake!" I call, popping up onto the counter.

He pops up from behind the counter like a Jack in the Box. “You rang?”

"Climb the house with me?" I say, starting to giggle. 

He cups his hands around his mouth. “Ritter!”

“I’m right here,” Darren says, a little exasperated, from the table. 

“Take over cleaning, Kel and I have some work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he mutters.

"Thanks!" I chirp, hopping off the counter. "Blake Blake Blake, we gotta _ climb." _

“Oo, where? Side of the building? I’ve been trying to map out a trajectory for weeks!”

"Yes! Let's do it!"

“Can’t use the ladder on the side,” he starts muttering. “Gotta free climb, but where?”

"Try the back wall," I say, heading that way. He jogs a little to catch up. Lord, this air feels good. Blake’s excited little jump when he points at the back wall, with its small windows halfway up, makes me just as excited.

“There. Good handholds. Could swing up to the outcropping ledge.”

"Oh, c'mon let's go! I'm ready!"

I look over my shoulder, and I see Sev hovering. I stick my tongue out at him before I see Blake start running towards the wall.

"Hey, no fair!" 

I sprint behind him, launching myself up as far as I can, trying to grab the handhold. 

He’s halfway up the wall before I realize it, heaving himself high enough to grab onto the ledge of the windows.

“The hell are you doin’?” I hear Mouch, who had apparently thought this important enough to experience. When I look over my shoulder, I see Sev, Mouch, Herrmann, and the rest of Squad eyeing us.

Herrmann looks decidedly unimpressed. 

"Marcks! Candidate! Get the hell down!"

Blake is just close enough to say something to me under his breath. 

“Dad wants us to get out of the treehouse,” he says in a sing-song voice.

I laugh hard enough one of my hands slips, and I grab for a new hold as I hear Herrmann swearing a blue streak. 

"Uh oh, Dad's mad," I sing back to Blake, lunging upward.

“Gonna make us do more chores,” Blake says. He swings a little, and nearly jumps to the next handhold. “I won’t stop if you won’t.”

"Like hell I'm stopping," I say, and I have to readjust for my height. "Not until I'm at the top and get to watch Herrmann stroke out."

He looks over his shoulder. “Sylvie’s here, she’ll take care of him,” he says, reaching the very top ledge and just… stopping, hanging there.

I reach to tap his foot. "You gonna get up or no?"

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Waitin’ for you to catch up. Also, how does Herrmann look?” He says, giggling.

I look back, and Herrmann is leaning on Mouch, not looking up, his hands over his eyes. 

"Pretty near catatonia," I say, coming up beside him. "Well, I'm here."

He heaves himself up over the edge, then sits, his legs dangling. 

“It’s nice up here,” he finally says.

I pull myself up on the edge beside him, looking around. 

"It is. Herrmann is freaking out," I notice, looking down.

“You’re gonna give him a heart attack,” Mouch says. “Breathe, you dumbass,” he says to Herrmann. 

"How can I breathe when she's doing _ that?" _Herrmann hisses back, looking up to us, then shaking his head.

I giggle, then cup my hands around my mouth. 

"I'm the Queen of the Castle," I yell, looking at Blake. 

Blake just gets up, standing on the edge of the firehouse. 

“Yeah, well,” he says to me, “I’m the King of the World!”

I look down. "Oh shit, Herrmann's like, freaked…" I flash my hand signal at him, and he just shakes his head at me. He’s still worried, I think, but he’s finally starting to breathe.

“Show’s over,” Mouch says, pointing up at the two of us threateningly. Squad starts to disperse.

"Uncle is ticked," I giggle. "I wanna stay here."

And Blake is quiet. He just sits back down on the edge of the building, watching, looking out across Chicago. 

“Nice up here,” is all he mutters.

I nod, and I scoot closer, laying my head on his shoulder. 

"Hey Blake?"

He pulls his arm around me, and he sighs. “Kelley?”

I pause, just sitting there.

"Remember that one call we went all _ Die Hard? _"

He chuckles once. “That was fun.”

"You said something after."

He seems to rack his brain, cycling through. “Alright, I don’t remember. You’re gonna have to tell me.”

"You said that any day you got to spend with me is… is a good one," I say, and wow, it's all I can do to keep my voice even.

He just starts chuckling. I feel him pull me closer. “Hell yeah. And I meant it. Is… is _ that _ what you’ve been thinkin’ about up here?” He asks, his voice suddenly serious. “You wanna climb the firehouse more often?”

"Can we?"

“Yeah!” he says enthusiastically. “Until Herrmann straight up has a stroke.”

"Why don't you ever ask me about shit?" I sigh, still leaning on him. I sneakily try to wipe the tear off my cheek.

“What do you mean?”

"You always just… you always know exactly what to say, even when you don't know what's wrong."

“Don’t need to know what’s goin’ on,” he says shortly. “Sometimes… sometimes you just gotta sit.”

I smile, and I nod. "I can do that. Thanks, Blake."

He drops a kiss on my forehead and doesn’t speak again. Not for a while.

* * *

_ I'd Spend Every Hour of Every Day Keeping You Safe _

**March 13, 2020** **  
** **1743 Hours** **  
** **1020 S. Wabash Ave. Apt. 7G, Chicago** **  
** **Crockett**

I honestly think about turning away right now. 

But I'm here, and… I want to be here. 

I just wait for the door to open, and I take another breath.

“Just... just a second!” I hear from inside, and then a slight crash, and then the door opens. Raelynn looks… slightly out of breath, and she just opens the door enough for me to see her.

“Crockett! You’re… you’re early.”

"If I'm not early, I'm late," I say, trying to chuckle, but I just look at her. 

And then she steps out into the hallway. 

“Okay. So. You should know something.”

I take her hand, and I lean on the wall. "Yeah?"

There’s another crash from inside, and she cringes, and then I hear giggling. 

I feel my eyes go wide. "Is that… Is… Evie?"

“Theresa—my housekeeper—she fell ill, she couldn’t… i-if it’s a problem, we can reschedule.”

Her eyes tell a different story. She doesn’t want me to leave. At least, that’s what I think. 

"I can meet her? Now?" I can't help the sudden hope. I can't help it.

“You… you want to?”

I nod. "Yeah, yeah I do." I squeeze her hand. "Please?"

“Oh. Oh, sure. Sure. Absolutely,” she says, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Come in. Y-yeah, we can do this.” 

I feel them in my coat pocket. My hand goes to check anyway. 

I follow her in the door, and I look to her.

“Evie?” She calls out tentatively. “Someone’s here to meet you.”

I wait, and then… it's like a younger version of Raelynn, she's… she's small and she's so beautiful. God, the brown hair, her eyes, she looks so much like her mother, and suddenly my heart hurts. 

She's so young, so pretty. I smile at her.

"Hi," I say, and I should say more but my throat closes, not allowing me to say anything but smile.

With a delicate hand, she reaches out to me.

“I’m Evie.”

"I'm… I'm Crockett," I say, taking her hand, and dropping to my knee. 

“Crockett!” She says, and suddenly, she throws her arms around my neck.

My arms go around her, and I can only murmur a quick "oof" as I look up to Rae, and I'm surprised. 

"Hey, hey, darlin'," I say to Evie, and I hug her gently. 

“Glad you’re here!” She says. “We were making cookies!”

"Cookies? Really now?" 

I will do anything for this little girl. 

Anything. 

And anything for her mother.

I wrap my arms around her, and before I know what I'm doing, I'm standing up, her still in my arms. 

"Lead the way," I say softly.

“Mama says you’re a surgeon,” she whispers to me. “Do you like chocolate chip cookies?”

"I do," I say, smiling at her. "And yeah, I am."

“I wanna be a doctor,” she says, reaching down to the counter and trying to take some cookie dough. 

“That’s gonna make you sick,” Rae says, hands on her hips. And then she looks at me, and the two of us, and it’s like her worry and concern all melt away. 

I smile at her, and I want to hold Evie forever. 

But my side reminds me, and so with a sigh I lower us both to the floor. 

"Need to let you stand for a bit, darlin'," I tell her.

I can't stop smiling at her.

She climbs up onto the stool, and she continues eating chocolate chips. 

“Evie, you’re going to spoil dinner,” she whispers. 

“We’re making spaghetti!” She says, hands deep in cookie dough. “Mama’s gonna let me make the garlic bread.”

Rae just… peers at me. And she smiles. She smiles. I smile too.

"Evie," I say, testing the name aloud. It feels lighter this time. 

“Evie, why don’t you get washed up, and we’ll finish up the cookies, huh?”

She peers at Rae then turns to me, stage-whispering, “she just wants to talk to you.”

I can't help the sudden laugh, and I stage-whisper back, "you're a smart cookie."

She struggles to get off the barstool. “I’ll read for a few minutes,” she says with a sigh that was much older than her seven years.

"Evie, wait," I say suddenly.

She twirls, her blue skirt poofing out a little. She spins a little more, distracted. 

I don't look at Rae, I just step forward, dropping to my knee in front of her, pulling the book from my pocket.

"I wasn't sure, but… but my sister loved it, maybe you will too," I whisper, holding out the worn copy of _ The Penderwicks. _

She takes it with two hands like it’s the damn Holy Grail, and then she looks worried. 

“But I don’t have a present for you.”

"Oh, darlin', meetin' you and bein' here with you and your mama is the best present I could have," I say, and I mean it.

She clutches the book to her chest, then seems to rethink it and throws her hands around my neck again. 

“Mama really likes you,” she whispers in my ear.

"I like your mama," I say back, hugging her close to my chest. I let my eyes close for a moment, and it's… it's perfect. 

"Now go wash up, darlin'," I say after a moment, letting her go.

“Did you tell him thank you?” Rae calls after her. The book still clutched to her chest, she gets a sly smile and says, “I did,” before looking at me.

I wink at her, and smile up to her mother. And that’s when I see the tears streaming down her face. 

"Rae, darlin', what is it?" I say, hauling myself off the floor to wrap my arms around her. "Hey, talk to me, cher."

She holds her hand over her mouth, trying to stop herself. “I’m sorry. I just… you’re the first. The first she’s met.”

"Shh, it's a'right. I'm glad to meet her. So glad. So…" I feel my eyes welling up, and I close them. "So glad."

“I-I’m sorry for the short notice. I just… I-I wanted you to meet her, too. I wanted it. You should.” She finally draws from me, checking the food on the stove, still wiping tears. 

I lean against the counter, and my hand is rubbing the St. Luke medal before I know what I'm doing. "I'm so glad. I wanted to meet her. Ever since you told me… everyone."

“I’m so sorry I came at you like that,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t have. But I… I heard you and Mouse talking at Mardi Gras about being in pain, and I just…. I kept thinking about it. I was… I had my own secrets, and I decided you should know. That’s the only way people can trust. And if I wanted you to trust me, I had to trust you.”

I sigh. "It's not that I didn't trust you, Rae. You gotta know that. It's more that I couldn't… I didn't trust myself. I didn't want to hurt you."

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t know how you would react, quite frankly. But I should have known better. I should have trusted you.”

"It's a'right, okay?" I brush her hair from her face. "Thank you." I step back, leaning on the counter again.

She leans into me, kissing me deeply. There’s something so domestic about it: as she holds a wooden spoon, in her kitchen. 

I kiss her back, pulling her close. 

"For what it's worth," I whisper, "I love her. I would protect both of you with my life."

She gestures with her spoon. “Do not let her manipulate you. She will walk all over you.”

I smile, and something in my chest twists. 

"I'd do anything for her, Rae. Anything. For both of you."

She just gazes at me for a moment, then smiles and whispers, “you might get hit up for some help in a second.”

“I need to make garlic bread,” says a small voice. 

I smile, kissing Rae's forehead then turning to Evie. "Need any help?"

“I need a pan.”

“You need a baking sheet,” Rae says. She puts a baking sheet with a loaf of bread cut in half with butter already on it.

“She did the fun part,” Evie grumbles. “I wanted to play with the butter.”

“And you would get it everywhere,” Rae says. She pushes over two types of cheese and two shakers of spices. 

Evie just pushes up her sleeves with a slightly manic look on her face. 

Oh God. 

I need Kelley to meet her. 

"If you ever need," I tell Raelynn before I'm even thinking it through, "Kelley and I can watch her for a night."

I can't help the growing smile.

“R-really?” Rae stutters. 

“I would like that,” Evie says, climbing up onto the barstool and then sitting on the counter. She digs her hopefully clean hands into the mozzarella cheese.

I laugh a bit. "Yeah. We'd be happy to. You and Kelley could cook together, if I get to help." I wink at Rae. "And by help I mean supervise."

“Evie, I told you about sitting on the counter,” Rae says, pulling the last batch of cookies from the stove. 

“Don’t…. do it?” She offers, dumping a lot of cheese onto the bread and giving me a wide smile.

I smile back, and I pause, my heart thudding painfully again. But I keep smiling at her. 

"Your mama doesn't say things for no reason, darlin' girl.'

She sighs, and crawls back far enough to put her knees on the bar stool. Rae glances from me, to Evie, and back to me again. 

“She listens to you. Good Lord. I’ve been replaced.”

“His accent is cooler than yours,” Evie says, taking both spice bottles and shaking them liberally onto the bread.

I watch her and I smile, I smile at her. And I smile at her mom. 

And I step back, closer to Raelynn, leaning on the counter. 

"I love her," I whisper again.

“Master manipulator,” Rae whispers. 

“Crockett,” she says, her very light British accent coming through. “You’re from New Orleans.”

"Yeah, darlin', I am."

“They speak French there,” she says matter of factly. She’s dousing the bread in even more cheese. 

"Well, not as a general rule, but there's a very big population who do," I chuckle.

“I was born in Paris!” She says, dramatically flourishing with a final sprinkle of cheese. 

“Alright, _ ma petite chou, _ calm down with the dairy, alright?” Rae takes the pan and slides it into the oven. 

I move up behind Evie, and gently lift her off the counter where she's crept up again. 

"Sit, young one," I say, laughing.

“She can’t,” Rae says, leaning against the counter. “She physically cannot sit. Evie, why don’t you ask him those questions you kept asking me?” She winks. 

I turn to the girl, my eyebrow raised. "You had questions?" As an after thought, with a wicked glance to Rae, I hop up on the counter, patting the spot beside me for Evie to sit.

“I give up,” Rae grumbles. 

“How much science is in your job?” Evie asks, her mood shifting to serious. 

"There's quite a bit," I say thoughtfully. "You learn a lot of science when you become a doctor, because you have to know how to read charts, and learn what medicines you can and can't give to people. You've got to learn a lot of chemistry."

“How much school did you have to do?” She asks, her face concerned. 

"Hmm. I had to do four years first, then four years of medical school. Then three more years as a resident."

“I’m in second grade,” she begins. “Ten… years, plus four, fourteen, plus four, eighteen, plus three, twenty… twenty-one.” She lets out a heavy breath. “That’s a lot.”

I smile. "It was a lot," I admit. "Long time, a lot of money."

She gets a sly grin. “Do you get to cut people open?”

“Genevieve Lynn!” 

I laugh, long and loud. "Sometimes, yeah. Only if I have to."

“I’m so sorry my child is so bonkers,” Rae says. “Besides, she wanted to be a ballerina last month.”

“Still do,” Evie says proudly. 

"I don't mind," I say. I don't. 

"Evie, may I ask you a couple of questions?" I ask carefully.

She readjusts herself, sitting straighter. “Yes, please.”

"What else do you like to do, besides cook like a mildly manic Iron Chef and read?"

Rae nearly spits out her drink, laughing. With a gentle hand on my shoulder, she asks if I want a glass of wine. 

“I love school!” Evie says. “I like math and science. History is bor-ing! I love ballet and I hate piano,” she says, glaring at Rae. She drops her voice low. “Mama makes me take lessons like she did. I love to paint and I want a chemistry set, but mama says it’ll make a mess.”

“Throw me under the bus,” she mutters. 

I shake my head to the offer of wine, turning back to Evie. "Hey now, don't shoot down the idea of piano. I wish I learned piano when I was younger."

Rae slides a glass of water towards me instead. 

“You should hear her play! She’s really good.”

Rae just groans, looking at the ceiling. 

"I'd like to hear her," I say quietly.

“Maybe later,” she says, pulling out bowls in which to serve dinner. Evie just inches closer to me on the counter.

“Do you have… more questions?” She says, looking up at me with those big brown eyes.

I lean in, dropping my voice. "I have a secret," I whisper. 

“I love secrets,” she says, whispering. 

"I really like your mama," I say. "I hope… with your permission, of course, I can keep seeing her."

“I really like you,” she whispers back, playing with her skirt. “You’re the only one she’s ever brought to see me.” She’s almost pouting.

I pull her close. "I'm glad I can. You're a good kid, Evie."

Evie smiles up at me and whispers, “I’m glad she sent Theresa home tonight.”

I choke on air. "You-" but then I stop.

And I smile at Evie, and I smile at her mother, and for the first time in over a week, it hurts less. 

I see her brown eyes look back at me, and I smile. 

I feel more joy than pain.


	40. You're Just Like Me, You're Out Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The North Side Valentines face off against their mortal enemies, the West Town Ruskies, once more to start the 2020 tournament. With Gallo, Ritter, and Crockett in the stands, it’s about to get ugly as the Queens of Dumbass and Risky Shit get into their own tilts. Ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them, and Kelley learns that the hard way.

_ I know it's strange, we're both the crazy kind _

**March 14, 2020** **  
** **1345 Hours** **  
** ** **Johnny’s Ice House East**  
** **Kate**

“Babe. Babe, please. Calm down. Calm down.”

“The first man who tells me to calm down will go to the hospital and the second will go to a morgue, what the hell is this music?!”

“Panic! At the Disco? You’ve never heard of Panic! At the Disco?” Raz skids past Mouse and I. 

“It’s about to be murder at the ice rink!” I snap. Raz grins. That’s a new one. He’s learning, I think.

Kelley screeches by, singing at the top of her lungs, and grabs my hands. 

"Hey look, Ma, I made it!" She warbles, pulling me along with her, giggling. "Everything's comin' up aces!"

“This is what we get for letting Raz make the playlists,” I say, pointing at Mouse accusingly. 

“I like his music,” Mouse says back. I’m shocked. I narrow my eyes. 

“Traitor.”

"I like it," Kelley chirps, spinning around, waving up in the stands. 

I whirl and look up. Gallo and Ritter sit a few rows up. Gallo waves back to Kelley while Ritter gives her a huge smile. 

“You invited the boys?” I ask, grinning to Kelley.

She shrugs, spinning once more. "They wondered how I play when I'm so tiny. I told them like an absolute maniac, but they wanted to see for themselves."

I squint. They’re wearing green. 

“Don’t fucking tell me. Did you get them t-shirts?”

"You told me not to tell you."

She grins at me, then books it to where Crockett is leaning on the boards. 

“Oh, man, I gotta warn him,” Mouse mutters, and he follows her over. 

“Well, now I gotta,” I mutter to absolutely no one, then skate over to the crew accumulating next to Crockett. Gallo and Ritter nearly fall over each other trying to get down to us.

Kelley has Crockett by the collar, shaking him. 

"You came home at 3 am, boy, and you have the nerve to pop up here and just tell me nothing?" 

He's just grinning.

“The hell were you?” Mouse says, leaning on his stick. 

“Yeah, the hell were you?” Raz asks, making himself laugh.

"None of y'all's business."

I squint at him, but I decide it’s not worth fighting. “I, for one, am happy you are here.”

He smiles at me.

"Glad to be here." 

He reaches out and touches Raz's shoulder, and flicks Kelley's helmet. 

With a manic giggle, Kelley skates off, running laps. Raz is off like a shot behind her. I just roll my eyes. 

“Were we ever like that?” I ask Mouse. He shakes his head, thinks about it, and then shakes his head again. I look over Crockett and salute Gallo and Ritter. “Hey, boys.”

“You gonna get in a fight tonight?” Gallo says excitedly. 

“That’s always the hope and the dream, Gallo. The hope and the dream.”

Mouse groans and just heads back to the crease. 

"Kate," Crockett says, turning to me.

“Crockett,” I say, raising my eyebrow at him.

"I might be… I might be in love."

I sputter. “W-what? What? Are you… Crockett?” My voice squeaks.

He leans over the boards, looking me dead in the eye. 

"There is nothing- I mean nothing - I wouldn't do for Raelynn and Evie. Nothing. I want to give them everything."

“You… you met Evie?” I ask. I know AK is trying to loop us all in, but I hold up my hand to wait. “Is  _ that _ what you were doing last night?”

"Yeah," he says softly. "Yeah, I was there."

“I haven’t met Evie yet,” I say softly. “I’m glad you did.”

"You will. You will meet her," he nods. "You'll love her. Hey, Kate?"

“‘Kett?” I say quietly, then turn around to yell at AK, “I’ll be there in a fuckin’ second, this ain’t the fuckin’ Stanley Cup!”

Crockett grins quickly. "Send Raz my way for a moment, wanna ask him somethin'."

“Hey, you got a med kit with you?” I ask slyly, skating backwards.

"What would you do if I said no?"

“The same thing I would be doing anyways!” I say. “Razzy boy, you’re up!”

I eye the two of them as Raz skates over. AK continues cursing at me.

“I’m gonna pull your eyeballs out and put them in soup, alright?” I call at AK.

Crockett's leaning on the boards, smiling at Raz, then says something, pointing to Kelley. He pulls back, and then winks at him, going back to sit behind the penalty box.

Raz looks… suddenly nervous. But he’s up, we’re all up, and Crockett looks pleased. 

Chuffed, I think Raelynn would say. 

“Why are you such an asshole?” AK says to me. From the net I hear Mouse yell, “Don’t call my wife an asshole!”

“How did he even hear that?” AK mutters. 

I didn’t even have time to mentally prepare. That’s okay. I’m sure Kelley did enough for me.

“Berkowitz,” I say. 

“Cavanagh.”

“Oh, honey, it’s Gerwitz now,” I say. 

He rolls his eyes, then turns his gaze to Kelley. Oh, no. Don’t wake the beast.

“You’re still on this team?” He says. “One hit, and I could break you in half.”

"Oh that's funny," she smiles. "I would've thought your little league team would've wanted you back by now."

“Aww, how precious. Sticks and stones, sticks and stones.”

Her smile drops, and she straightens, almost like she's in her CFD uniform again, that deadly look in her eye. "Words may never hurt you, assface, but my hockey stick up your ass will."

“Can you fuckin’  _ focus?” _ AK calls out. That puck drops and it’s mine. Berks I think is still distracted by the little blonde who just threatened to sodomize him. 

Quick, I pass to AK, because I feel one of their defenders on my ass. I get pushed out of the way, so I can't see what's happening. All of a sudden, I hear Kelley cry out "Over!" 

Raz passes the puck behind the net and Kelley intercepts it, passing it to Kilts, who passes it to AK. I'm halfway down the rink before AK nearly suffers an interception, and then passes it to me. 

Their goalie had it coming, really. I slam it so hard, he actually looks concerned.

Kelley whoops, her fist in the air. "Take that, West Sad Roosters!"

“West Sad Roosters?” Mouse yells. “Really?”

"I wanna see them maaaaaad," she sings, skating past like a truck on a highway. 

“I think this  _ is _ them mad,” I say, skating figure eights in front of the faceoff. Berks already looks pissed. 

“Thought after the last, what, two tournaments, you’d be a little too broken to come back on the ice,” Berks says, running his eyes over me.

"Berks, how long have you been on this damn fine earth?" Kelley calls, skating around him, Doppler fashion.

“Claude, you should know not to ask a woman her age,” Raz adds. I let out an uncharacteristically loud laugh. 

“Berks is forty-two,” Ables says with a sigh. I swear, he wants him off the team as much as we do.

Kelley blows Ables a kiss. "Thank you, you're the best." She turns to Berks, smiling so serenely it almost scares me. "Hon," she says, "that's forty-three years too long."

The goalie just gives up and drops the puck. I steal it immediately, and Berks just lets out a little roar as I zip behind him. 

And then suddenly, I’m on my ass. I don’t even know how I got here. The puck is gone—

"Raz!" I cry. He slips behind the net. One of their forwards starts coming up towards Raz, so I see as AK start inching up. Oh, yeah. Hugging the boards. I know this shit. This is my shit. 

He's got the puck, and he pushes forward with the help of Kelley to get out of the defensive zone. He passes to AK lightning quick and he's off like a shot. 

The goal light blinks before I can even breathe. I’m cringing a little as I head back. That one was a little rough. 

Kelley's beside me, her hand touching my arm. "You good?" She whispers sharply. "Yo, asshole," she yells. "Lay off the booze before the game, don't want to be pulled over for playing while impaired."

“I’m good, I’m good,” I mutter. Raz skates in a slow circle, about ten feet back, watching the two or us. I wave him off. 

“Gettin’ a little old, there, aren’t you, Cavanagh?”

“You gonna call me by my name, or are you gonna get your ass kicked?” I snap.

Kelley swings around behind him, flipping off the back of his head and sticking her tongue out.

“At least I don’t flat tire every time I get on the damn ice,” he calls to no one in particular.

"Oh, honey, it's not your fault you do better on the golf course than the ice. You ever see _Happy Gilmore_? Yeah, except you're the reverse."

He skates a little forward, and I stop him from going too far by stepping in front of him.

“Hey. You gonna fight, or you gonna play? Because I’m sure Claude over there would take you in the ring. I know she’s like, five two, but she could kick your ass.”

“Yeah, she could!” Gallo yells out. 

Kelley gives a theatrical bow, flipping Berks off again as she does. "Guess what, kiddo, you see this finger? This is the finger your mom taught me how to use."

“Can you take the fuckin’ face off!” AK yells. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” I say, and I’m three for three. I pass it to Laser before miming buffing my nails on my jersey. "I'm a fuckin' faceoff specialist."

"Stop posturing!" Mouse calls.

"No!"

“At least gimme somethin’ to do!” He yells back. 

“Stay bored!” I yell. 

“I wanna see a fight!” Cries out Gallo. He points emphatically at me, then Kelley, and then Berks. 

I glance to Kelley. 

She's beaming, and then she's waving to get my attention, pointing to Crockett. 

He's staring out onto the ice, yelling at the ref. 

"Hey stripes, that whistle ain't no dick, get it outta your mouth!" He's bawling at the ref, and Kelley just widens her eyes comically at me.

The game goes on around me. I’m just frozen, and I hear the words come out of my mouth before I think them.

“Crockett, what the  _ actual flying fuck?! _ Who the fuck are you? Why have I not met Hockey Crockett?! You have been holding out on me, boy!”

He waves at me, then turns back, pointing at Berks, screaming, "Yo, does your coach know you're out here? How about your anger management counselor?"

“Kelley,  _ move _ !” I cry out as one of the other players comes barreling towards her. 

I'm slammed onto the boards. Jesus, come on. Checked from behind. That is a little cold, even for the Ruskies.

"Gerwitz, get outta there!" I hear. 

_ Fuck _ . I scramble to my skates, grab my stick, and look for Kelley. 

She's pinned to the boards, and she looks like she wants  _ blood. _

She drops to her knees, and slams the guy's head into the boards where she just was. I whirl and Berkowitz gets an elbow to his face. 

I hear Gallo’s incoherent yell from the stands. It’s loud, it’s long, and it’s feral.

I rip off my gloves and even though I hear the whistle getting blown, my helmet is off and I’m throwing blows. 

Berkowitz, the asshole, is actually  _ laughing. _

I’m so pissed, I can’t even think of a chirp. Instead, I right hook him so hard, he slams into the boards and then onto the ice. 

“Kelley!” I cry out, looking for her. 

She's on the ice, and she's laying on her side.

“Marcks, are you fucking good?” I call, and I look to Mouse. He’s got Raz’s arm. 

Kelley lays still until Bricks reaches down to poke her, and she just… she grabs his arm and yanks, sending him to the ice, and her gloves are off. 

She's just hitting, punch after punch. Like that one scene from the fucking  _ Christmas Story _ , she doesn’t let up. Berks starts to get up, but I right hook him again. He gets enough traction to stand up, and he throws me back into the boards.

Okay, okay. That one… that one hurt. I cringe and sink back down to the ice. 

The ref finally pulls Berks off me. He hasn’t made it to Kelley yet.

"Kate! Kate, get up!" I hear Crockett yell.

Kelley's head is being smashed into the boards, and she bounces off them, hitting the ice hard.

I struggle to my feet, and my shoulder hurts. Fuck. Crockett is going to kill me. 

“I’m going to the  _ fucking  _ sin bin, but I want my Claude, okay?”

Kelley's trying to push herself up off the ice, but she barely dodges a punch, and she hits the ground again. 

Crockett's almost climbing over the boards.

I cringe, but I can’t make it to her. Raz finally wrenches from Mouse’s grasp, but he doesn’t make it there in time. 

Bricks drives her head into the ice, and she quits moving for a second. Raz makes it the same time the ref does. He gets face to face with Bricks, but doesn’t throw a punch. Instead, he breaks first and drops to his knees, checking on Kelley. 

She struggles onto her elbows, reaching an arm around his shoulders, and there's a cut on her forehead. 

Bricks and Berkowitz head to their penalty box, and I take over, grabbing Kelley.

“Hey. Hey, you good? Jesus. I didn’t know Bricks had it in him.”

She grins, and shrugs, looking around and catching Bricks' eye, flashing him a thumbs up. "Told him he did a good job, been trying to get him to fight since halfway through last season."

“You taunted the asshole until he snapped,” I say, cringing as we head to the sin bin. “Fuck me,” I mutter.

Crockett's waiting, hands on his hips, and he looks pissed. 

“Heeyy,” I say, giving him my best ‘whoops’ face. 

He's not impressed, and he waves Gallo down. "Deal with Kelley." He turns to me, and he's quietly seething. "This is why I don't come to games," he hisses to the two of us, fingers prodding my shoulder gently.

I pull the Velcro on my pads so he can get underneath. “I can tell you what happened,” I say. “And hey. I like when you’re here. You say  _ ridiculous  _ things.”

"We'll unpack that later. Just tell me what happened," he snaps, his hand gently manipulating my shoulder.

“Dislocated. It dislocates if I bend it wrong at this point.”

"I should, by rights, take you in, right now."

I scoff. “Just pop it back in, I’ll be good to go.”

"In three… two…." And he wrenches it back into place with a pop. At this point, I cringe, I let out a short cry, and then the pain stops. 

“See? Good as new.”

He sighs, still glaring at me. 

Kelley has Gallo by the neck. 

“Should probably rescue him, you know,” I mutter, rubbing my shoulder. “You know I’m gonna fight again, right?”

"Don't tell me. I need plausible deniability."

Kelley is murmuring something, and her face is deadly serious as she stabs a finger directly into Gallo's face. 

Crockett just pulls him away. "Kelley, stop threatening him. You realize he's gonna tell me if you look like you have a concussion. Don't bribe him."

"I'm gonna fight again too!" She pouts. 

Gallo goes from frightened to delighted when he sees me. “Kate! That was amazing! You kicked his ass! He’s like, two times bigger than you!”

“He’s in love with you, just so you know,” Ritter says, casually munching on popcorn. 

“Shut up, dude,” Gallo snaps. “She’s like, the Queen of… Dumbass and Risky Shit, okay?”

“I could get used to that,” I say lovingly. He smiles. I turn back to Crockett. “We’ve got like, three minutes left. She gonna be good for round two, or what?”

"She's fine, but I see one more head shot, I'm getting the ref to pull her on medical grounds," he growls.

I start laughing hysterically. “Oh, Crockett, you should have seen the 2018 Championships.”

"I don't think I want to know now- your refs suck, hang on-" he leans over the board, and starts screaming again. "Zebra, zebra, short and stout, find your head and pull it out!" 

He turns back to me. "You were sayin'?"

“Crockett, we have been through a helluva lot, we’ve done a helluva lot, but you have never been hotter to me than you are right now,” I say, struggling to redo the Velcro on my pads. “Nah, 2018, tournament finals. Concussion, broken wrist, dislocated shoulder, sore knee, black eye, cuts and bruises. You know the drill.”

"You're crazy," he mutters, moving behind me and taking care of the Velcro. "Oh, by the way, your bottom hand is gettin' awful tight on your stick, loosen her up again, you'll gain some reach."

“I fuckin’... I do that every time, swear to God, Kelley, you good?”

She just gives me a manic grin, and with the little bit of blood on her face, she looks almost frightening. 

“You got blood on your face,” I say. Gallo makes a motion to wipe it off with his hoodie sleeve, but I push it down. “No, my son. No. When you draw blood on the ice, you wear that like war paint.”

Gallo draws a sharp breath, looking at me like I’m some sort of god. 

Crockett just throws his hands up. "You all are crazy." 

He looks back to the ice, and his voice gains like, ten decibels as he calls, "It must  _ suck _ to suck, buddy!"

“Basic, but classic,” I say as the period ends. 

* * *

Five minutes left. Enough to really fuck some shit up. I roll my shoulder, but Goddamn, maybe Crockett was right. I’m sore. I’m more sore than usual. Maybe I’m getting too old for this shit. 

Kelley rolls by me, and I breathe out a welcome sigh as she lets out the loudest “Bwerrrgh!” and high five, low fives Raz. They’re pacing behind me, and even Raz looks hungry for blood. Actually, wait. He’s glaring at Bricks. Oh no. Boy’s gonna cause something. 

Let’s fuckin’ hope so.

Berkowitz groans when he faces me again. 

“When are you gonna give it up?” He says. “I’m just gonna pummel your ass again.”

“Oh, that’s what that was?” I ask, gasping theatrically. “From my angle, I was pummeling  _ your  _ ass.”

Kelley's screaming pigeon noises behind me. 

"Look, Raz, it's the tough guy again! Ooh, he gonna show us how tough he is? How precious."

“Such a rookie move. And forty-two?” I tsk. “Aww. It’s so nice that they would let someone like you on the team. Whoops!” 

I deke him on the fucking faceoff, and shoot it back. Kelley takes it and is off like a rocket, but I see that asshole Bricks coming for her already. 

I swear, they sic them on us just for fun.

“Claude, eyes!” I yell out. 

She keeps on track, just faster. Damn, she is fast. Fuck, she’s gone. Raz shoots past and bodychecks Bricks, sending him flying into the boards, but the ref doesn’t call him. 

And Kelley scores. 

“Fuckin’ shutdown pair!” I yell out. 

She spins, bows, and grins, her arm up in the air. I blow her a kiss, head to the face off, and holy shit, Berks actually gets it this time.

What the fuck is going on with me?! 

He heads towards Mouse, who’s just leaning on his stick. He finally perks up. Ables takes it towards him, but he blocks it. 

“That’s right, baby!” I cry. Ables tries to take it around, for another shot, and I realize what’s happening. 

"Claude, Raz, take the wingers!"

Instead of pushing forward and blocking their right forward, Kelley just fucking nails him to the boards.

Fuck, it’s Bricks, and he looks  _ pissed. _ But for now, he keeps skating. 

I give him the universal ‘I’m watching you’ hand signal. 

Kelley just growls, and she's angry enough she's like a tiny ball of rage. God help the poor soul who gets in her way.

Goop comes around and dangles and get it in the damn goal once more. 

I don't know why they try. We're at what, seven to zero?

I don't understand why they're the second best in the league. It's really just sad.

One minute left. I can barely breathe, though, because Kelley is ready to rip a man's jugular out with her teeth. 

I chance a glance to Crockett.

He's glaring, right at me. I blow him a kiss in retaliation.

And he flips me off.

Berks tries to ice me as he comes up, but I don’t even blink.

"Looks like your goalie's gettin' sunburned," I say innocently.

"I'm gonna kick your girl's ass, and then I'm gonna kick yours."

"You can damn well try, but it ain't gonna end well," I scoff. “Hey, Berks?”

“Absolutely not.”

“When you practice—well, that is, if you practice—do your teammates chant  _ ‘Rudy, Rudy’ _ when you’re doin’ something good?” I ask slowly.

He sets his jaw.

I steal the puck. And then I realize something. 

They’ve pulled their fucking goalie. It’s idiotic. There’s no point. There’s no point to pulling a goalie when they’re this far behind, unless it’s for something other than points. 

They’re gonna fucking fight dirty. 

I’m slammed into the boards, but it’s not a familiar attack. I realize, in a second, that I’m not the primary victim here, I’m the distraction. 

“Kelley!  _ Kelley _ !” I cry, but the Ruskie just pushes me back into the boards. I can’t see her. I can’t fucking see her—

And then I hear her, one guttural yell, and I hear Crockett screaming, "What the  _ actual fuck?" _

I get pushed into the boards one more time. This time, my shoulder slams hard, and I realize I probably should have listened to Crockett. This time, the pain shoots down my fingertips, and it burns.

I let my arm hang, but I throw a right hook, trying to get him off me long enough to see Kelley.

"Kate, get up!" I hear Crockett again, worried, and then I hear his voice change, and it's pure anger now. I don't think he's talking to me. I don't think so. "Get in there and pull them off her, get her off the fuckin' ice, get her  _ out!" _

“Get the fuck off me,” I snarl, and I slam the unknown Ruskie to the ice. I’m on my knees, and I’m trying to breathe. 

I can’t even see Kelley. She’s somewhere underneath Berkowitz and Bricks. 

And then I see who Crockett was talking to. 

For as long as I’ve known him, he’s always been the one to encourage me to fight, but never got in it himself. For the first time, I see Thomas “Raz” Rasmussen enter a tilt. 

He just fucking clotheslines Berkowitz going full speed. 

Kelley gets to her knees in time to grab for Bricks' knee as he slams his fist into the side of her head, and she lists to the side.

I start towards her, but everything hurts. Might be blood on my face. Holy shit, I’m nearly buzzed by a green jersey as Mouse tackles Bricks. He drags Bricks far enough away, but I see it coming. Before I can even say anything, Raz slides on the ice, leaving Berks open and Kelley unprotected.

Kelley sees him coming, spitting out blood as her arms come up to shield her face. Berks hauls her off the ice by her Jersey, brings up his knee into her and then pretty much Hulk-smashes her into the ice.

She hits the ice, a winded yell from her as the air gets crushed out of her as he lands on top of her, raining blows down on her.

I’m holding onto my arm, frozen. Is this what it looks like when I fight? 

All I can hear is the whistle blowing, and I know the game is over, but Berks won’t stop. 

At least, until he’s tackled by Raz. Raz just pins him to the ice, straddling him, fucking unloading. I didn’t know the kid had it in him, really. He just pummels the asshole.

When are they going to kick him out of the league?!

I skate towards Kelley, dropping to my knees and sliding the rest of the way.

“Kel? Kelley, c’mon. Kelley?”

She doesn't move, but I hear her, and I'm not sure if those are chuckles or sobs, because she's out of breath enough that she can't even talk. 

"Kat- kate…"

I’m almost afraid to move her, so I gently try to turn her over. I should get Crockett. I should, but I’m afraid he’s going to straight murder me.

Kelley shifts enough so she's face up, and there's blood all over her face. She reaches up with a hand to try and wipe it away. 

"Is she breathing?" 

I hear from the other side of the rink.

“She’s laughing and or crying, and she’s moving, so yes?”

Kelley tries to sit up, and she whimpers once, closing her eyes as she flops back onto the ice. "Fuck Berks. Fuck him. He's huge."

“Uh, your boyfriend has taken care of that fact,” I say. Ables picks up Berks, and he’s got blood on his face, too. Raz leans back against the boards, wiping the sweat from his brow, but there’s blood on his fists. 

Mouse looks down at Raz, helmet and gloves off, hair wild, and fist bumps his bloody hand against Raz’s. 

Raz, tired, fucked up, with someone else’s blood on his hands, finally turns to see Kelley and his eyes water.

“Kelley! Kelley, are you okay?”

She's not looking at him, but reaches out her hand. "Baby, hey…"

“Where the fuck is Crockett,” I mutter. “Crockett?!” I yell out.

And then he's there, dropping down beside me, Gallo and Ritter with him. 

"Kelley," he says, and he gently digs his fingers into the soft muscle of her shoulder, nodding when she groans. "Gotta stay awake, kid, come on. Gallo, check for broken bones." He looks to me. "Are you hurt? Stupid question, your shoulder's out again."

I lean back against the boards, and I cringe. I don’t want the others to hear, so I beckon him closer. “This one? This one was bad. Think I’m gettin’ too old for this shit.”

"I'd agree," he snaps at me. "Who can tell me right now what exactly happened here, because I was arguing with the referee for half of it, trying to pull her off the ice. Somebody, talk. Now."

“We were targeted,” I offer. “Took me out as a distraction, Bricks and Berks went for Kelley. That’s all I saw.”

He nods, sending me a Look.  _ We're not done, _ it says. 

"Gallo, Ritter, get her on the board, she's goin' to Med. Who else wants to speak now? Or I'll make sure you hold your fuckin' peace."

There’s silence around us as the tension could be cut with a knife. Raz very tentatively raises his hand.

He nods at him, and his voice softens, just a hint. "Start talkin'." He's rummaging through his bag.

“Berks went high, Bricks went low,” Raz says, swallowing a lump in his throat. “From there, they just… they went to pound town, Dr. Marcel. Just unleashed. I couldn’t get to her fast enough. Kept slammin’ her on the ice. That’s when me and Mouse, we cut in.”

“Might have broken knuckles,” Mouse mutters, looking at his hand. 

“Me too,” Raz says sadly. 

"Hey, you did good, okay?" Crockett says before sliding himself over to where Gallo and Ritter have Kelley stabilized. 

"Kate, need your help," he calls. "Tommy, you too."

I exhale heavily, and I pull myself back up using the wall. I have to hold on for a second. I’m dizzy, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Got it,” I say.

"Keep her talking, fuckin yell at her if you need to. She cannot fall asleep," he mutters, trying to loosen her pads.

“I got an idea,” I mutter. “Hey, Kelley! I don’t think you know all the lyrics to  _ The Rattlin’ Bog _ .”

"Fuck… fuck you," she whispers. "Do too."

Crockett nods. 

“You should prove it to me.”

She's trying, and she's slurring the verse out, then trails off again. 

Crockett's trying to get her pads off so he can see how bad the damage is.

"Kelley, hey!" 

She just sighs.

“Is it the branch, or the egg first, I can’t remember,” I mutter, leaning back against the boards and shutting my eyes. 

"Branch…" 

Crockett looks up to me, then motions to Gallo to take his place getting the pads off as he moves to beside me. "Kate, hey! Kate!" He says, snapping his fingers in front of my face.

“I’m good, I’m good,” I say, the headache mounting. “Go back to Kelley, she needs you more than I do.”

"Did you hit your head?" He asks me sharply.

“Crockett, I’m fine,” I say. “Help Kelley.”

"Answer the question, Gerwitz, now." 

“Okay, I conked it a little, I’m fine, she needs you.”

"Shit," he says under his breath. "Mouse, get to the phone, tell emergency the address and tell them we need another damn bus." 

I wave Mouse off. “Good God, Crockett, I’m fine, I don’t need a fucking ambo.”

"Then you're getting checked the moment you get in the damned door, am I perfectly clear?" He moves closer to Kelley, but is glaring at me.

“Fuckin’ crystal, my dude, is Kelley gonna be good?”

He tilts his head, and I hear sirens. "She'll… hey, hey! Kelley, come on. Stay awake!"

She groans, and then whispers, "Where's Tommy?"

“I’m here, baby, I’m here,” he says, leaning closer. “You’re lookin’ beautiful as ever!”

"Lies," she chuckles. "You okay?"

“Got in my first fight!” He says excitedly. “Think I broke some fingers!”

“I remember my first fight,” Mouse says sarcastically. 

Kelley huffs a laugh. "Tommy, honey…"

“Yeah? What’s up? What do you need?” 

"Thanks for rippin' Berks off me," she whispers. "Where'd you go?"

“I’m here,” he says, scooting closer. “Didn’t go anywhere.”

"Coulda sworn you…" she mutters, and Crockett's shining his light in her eyes again, and staring at his watch. 

"Tom-my," she whines.

“Kelley?” He asks, excitedly. I roll my eyes. It hurts my brain. 

"Stop going away, I can't see you," she mutters, reaching out for him again.

He looks panicked to Crockett, but I know it’s a symptom of a concussion. “She’ll be fine, Tommy,” I murmur. 

Crockett stands up as the paramedics come in, and Kelley sighs. "Dar-ren. Blake. You're hovering but I don't… don't know where you are."

Blake looks directly over Kelley’s face. “Hey, girl!”

"Hi, nutjob," she says back. 

He looks from Kelley, to Crockett, back to me. 

“You shoulda told me these games were so exciting! And this is just the _ first  _ one!”

I groan and lean against the boards, closing my eyes, so I don’t see Crockett absolutely drill the boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna keep going until at least the end of the seasons. I'm thinking 50 chapters and I'm not sorry. This is how we're both coping with life. It's a cathartic coping mechanism. It's gonna be longer than the freakin' Brick.


	41. Beating Hearts Like Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate knows they’ve made Crockett mad with their full tilt tilly on the ice, but it’s Kelley they’re worried about. With another (light) concussion on the books, it’s enough to make the entire crew tell her it’s time to chill. But it’s time for the perspective of the last of their crew, and Raz steps in to try to get her to stop, although he knows it's futile. He also finds out it’s futile to fight the interrogation by Gallo and Ritter about his intentions.

_Living Like We'll be Young Forever_

**March 14, 2020** **   
** **1725 Hours** **   
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center** **   
** **Kate**

I know I’m gonna get my ass kicked. Figuratively this time. Well, nah, maybe physically. I don’t know if he would do that in a hospital, though. You know. Do no harm and all that shit. 

But this is becoming familiar, as I sit on the exam bed, in my too-big jersey, pads left at the ice rink. Mouse hung back with Kelley and Raz, so I’m left alone, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

He appears in the doorway, and I give him the best apologetic smile I can give him.

He stops where he is, crossing his arms.

He's  _ seething. _

"You fought. I told you not to."

“It’s kinda my shtick,” I say, shrugging, and then cringing. 

"You moron," he mutters, and then he's gently pulling off my jersey, moving it so he doesn't jostle my shoulder too much. 

“You love me?” I offer, giving him a cheesy smile. 

"You're lucky I do," he says shortly. "Tank top can stay on, but I need to check this out."

He's fiddling with the machine, and then he's moving the ultrasound wand across my shoulder, the gel cold.

“You know I’ve dislocated my shoulder like, seventeen times at this point.”

"Ultrasounds don't lie, Kaitlyn. I can see the scar tissue. I'm well aware."

He's not looking at me until he's done, wiping off the gel. 

"Gonna pop it back in, okay?"

“Yeah, just do it, I know what it feels like,” I sigh. 

"Damn right you do, that's the second damn time tonight." 

He takes my arm, manipulating it until there's a loud click.

“ _ Fuck me _ ,” I breathe. That one hurt. 

He leans in, hand rubbing my back. 

"Hey, it's alright, I got you," he says.

“I know, I know, it’s my own damn fault,” I say, closing my eyes and cringing against the headache. “I’m not sorry, you know.”

He sighs. "I know. And that's what scares me, Kate."

“Hey, I gotta get my violence out sometime,” I say, rubbing my fingers against my temple. 

I hear him pull the curtain closed, and then the bed shifts as he sits on the side, his hand taking mine and digging into the skin between my fingers.

“Ow.  _ Ow _ . May have hurt my knuckles again. Hey, did you check on Mouse and Raz? Raz went… apeshit.”

"Told Will to check on them. You and I need to have a chat, Kate. You need to be more careful. You have to."

I scoff, glaring at his hand on mine. “Ow, shit, why you gotta do that?” I don’t feel like addressing his statement, but something tells me he’ll come at me again. 

He lets go, crossing his arms. "What did I just say? What did I just tell you?"

I sigh, looking to the ceiling. “I need to be more careful.”

"Yeah. Exactly." 

He sighs again, his hand brushing my hair back. 

"I'm serious, Kate. You could've been hurt bad."

“Oh, come on, ‘Kett. It’s not that bad. Just my shoulder. K-knuckles…?” I ask, unsure. 

He glares at me, then reaches for my hands. "Two and two," he finally says, running his hands over mine.

“I should’ve helped out Kelley,” I grumble. “I’m fine. She’s not.”

"Stop that," he snaps, looking me in the eye. "Not your fault. They need to kick those two out of the league. I told her not to, but she didn't listen."

“Trust me, I’ve tried. Berks, the 2018 tournament, kicked my ass. Actually blacked out. And you know that she won’t listen. It’s Kelley.”

"She's a damn firefighter, Kate, and she has two official Grade Two and Three concussions on her record! If there's one more Two, she can get pulled from active duty for six months. She needs to listen," he mutters, still holding my hands. "Not like she has to stop playing, but she needs to calm down."

I sigh. I know he’s right. I just hate to admit it. “If you talk to Mouse, she might listen to him. They have their own weird little relationship. She might listen if it comes from him. Lord knows she won’t listen to you or I.”

He nods, and he looks tired. 

"But you, ma'am, you need to take it easy," he says, pointing at me.

“When have I, Kaitlyn Elen Gerwitz, ever took anything easy?”

He shakes his head. "You'll give me a cardiac event one day, Kate, I swear."

“So, Doctor? How bad was I?”

He just sticks his tongue out at me, and flips me off, and I'm suddenly not sure if he got that from Kelley or she got it from him. We’re all morphing into the same person at this point, anyway. 

“Go check on Kelley,” I order. “I’ll be fine.”

He kisses me on the forehead.

"Call me if you need, Katie Kat," he says softly.

I sigh. I might still accidentally kill him one day. 

* * *

**Mouse**

“Dude. Dude, chill. I’m gonna need you to not freak so much.”

Raz taps his fingers against his arm, pacing a little. 

“Shouldn’t have hesitated. Shoulda got in there faster. Shouldn’t have let Berks and Bricks get her like that.”

"I'm fine," Kelley speaks up, voice tiny.

“No, you’re not,” he grumbles. “Shoulda got there faster. Shoulda fought them. Shouldn’t have let you take the hits. I shoulda took the hits.”

“Dude, chill,” I say, my hand on his arm. There’s still blood on my hands, and I see it on his, too. 

"Tommy, I'm fine."

“Not fine,” he says. “Blood everywhere.”

I grab his shoulders. “Get a hold of yourself, dude. She’s fine. Concussed, for sure, bruised up, she is gonna be fine, okay?”

He glances to her once more, still hesitant.

She just closes her eyes, sighing. "Tommy?"

“Hey, baby, I’m here,” he murmurs, going to the side of the bed.

"Not your fault, honey," she says, smiling at him.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t step in,” he says, brushing her hair back. It would be sweet if there wasn’t so much blood. “I just froze. I’ve never been in a tilt before.”

"Hey, you did amazing," she tells him. "I'm proud of you. And grateful. Thanks for gettin' Berks off, he was starting to suffocate me like an elephant on my chest."

He sighs, and in the sweetest voice, he says, “I’m going to kill him.”

Kelley giggles, high, loud, and horrible.

"No, baby, you're not."

“Yeah, I am,” he grumbles. 

“Hey, you kids good? I’m gonna go try to find Crockett. I’m afraid he’s gonna murder my wife.”

"I'm fine," Kelley says, grinning up at me.

“Keep sayin’ it, it’ll come true, right?” I mutter. “Don’t do anything… you know, stupid.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Raz mutters. “I’m gonna kill him, and you can’t stop me.”

“Sure, you are, kid. Sure you are.”

* * *

**Raz **

Mouse may not think so, but I’ll kill Berkowitz. Swear I will. Shouldn’t underestimate me, I’ll punch him again. Don’t care how bad it hurt my knuckles. I’ll do it for her. 

Hmm. Never been in a fight before. Probably shouldn’t tell Becky. She’d yell at me for assault and battery or something. 

But it’s  _ hockey.  _ I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long without a fight. 

Wait, Kelley. Gotta focus. I smile at her again. God, she’s beautiful. 

She's giggling. 

"Tommy, you just…" she waves her arm, making noises. "You took him down!"

I try not to show my confusion. “Of course I took him down. He was takin’ you to pound town, Kelley. That’s just not okay.”

She laughs even harder, tears leaking out of her eyes.

"No, baby, that's not- yeah okay," she giggles.

“Wait, what?” I ask. ”What do you mean? Why is that funny? It was a brutal attack! He… you… you’re concussed, Kelley! Concussed!”

She shrugs, still laughing. "I've been concussed before, honey," she says, reaching up to me. 

“Well, yeah, me too, but because of my own dumb head, not a three hundred pound dude taking you to pound city! I know you can take care of yourself, you’re a badass, but I waited too long. I’m so sorry. I shoulda stepped in before that.”

_ Ugh _ . That’s what I get. Hesitating. Shouldn’t hesitate. Shouldn’t do that anymore. Note to self: stop hesitating.

She stares off in the distance for a minute, her hand still on my arm. "There was one concussion…"

“One concussion? What? What’re you talkin’ about?” I say, brushing her hair from her face. Hope that’s not all her blood. Oh, shit, there’s still blood on my fingers. 

"I've had a few, but there was one when I got caught in a fire, and I had to pull Herrmann out, got hit by a falling beam," she says, giggling a bit.

“What, seriously?” I ask. Shit. Wow. “What happened after?”

She hums. "Grade three concussion, I was a little beat up. Got dizzy for a long time after that."

“Shit. Shit, Kelley. Glad you’re okay, though! How was Herrmann?”

"He had a bad limp for a bit, but he was okay, thank God."

She sighs, closing her eyes again, reaching out for me. I scramble, reaching for her hand, and cringe. Oops. 

"You okay, honey?" She says, opening her eyes and looking up to me.

“Oh, yeah! I think I broke some knuckles on Berkowitz’s face,” I say.

She looks at me, and her eyes start to well over.

“Baby, baby, baby, no, don’t cry, why are you crying?”

"You got hurt," she hiccups, gazing at me.

“You got  _ more _ hurt!” I say. “I shouldn’t have waited so long! I didn’t want… you’re a badass, and I underestimated Berks’ anger, okay? I’m so sorry.”

" _ I'm  _ sorry," she whispers. "It woulda been okay, honey."

“Everything good in here?” 

I look to Mouse and give him a smile. “Hey, Mouse!”

Mouse has an angry Dr. Marcel in tow.

"Hey, kids," Dr. Marcel says quietly, checking the monitors. He's glaring at Kelley, who flips him off. 

“Is she okay?” I ask. “She seems fine to me, but well, you know, not… not a doctor.”

"Concussion, Grade One, so mild, should be fine tomorrow or so, decent headache for a week." He's mad. "Kelley, the hell were you thinking? Oh right, you weren't," he mutters, and Kelley just giggles. I laugh at first, but Dr. Marcel glares at me and I immediately stop. 

Mouse puts his hands on the edge of the bed, sighing. When he does that, with his jersey on and his hair all crazy, he reminds me of my dad. He’s giving me the same look as my dad gives me.

“Kelley. I’m tellin’ you, from the bottom of my heart, you’re gonna have to start chillin’ on the ice.”

She snorts, then winces. "Like hell I am."

“You wanna stay on active duty?” He snaps. 

Her eyes go wide. "What the hell?"

Dr. Marcel crosses his arms, glaring at her again. 

She looks back to Mouse. "The hell you talking about?"

He gestures to Dr. Marcel. “You’ve got… the different levels of concussions. You get one more bad one, and you’re out for half a year. That ain’t good, Kelley. You gotta chill. And don’t think Kate got out of this. She already heard it from both of us.”

"Half a year, maybe more, you dumbass," Dr. Marcel says quietly. "Dammit, Kelley! Does the name Boogaard mean anything? Concussions  _ will  _ fuck you up, and it will kill you."

She stares at him, her eyes welling up again.

I know about the Boogeyman. He had, oh, what was it? Chronic traumatic encephalopathy. I read it once. Don’t know what it means, though. Probably should ask sometime. Probably shouldn’t ask right now, though. Not a good idea. 

“Hey, Kelley?” I ask quietly.

"What?" She says, still staring up at Mouse.

“I would, uh, I would… prefer you uh, don’t… you don’t die from a concussion, okay?” I try. 

Mouse points at me and just nods.

She sighs. "Now that's just emotional manipulation."

Mouse lets out a laugh. “Raz? From him? You  _ know _ that boy isn’t capable of manipulation.”

“I’m standing right here,” I say, shaking my head at him. “But yeah, he’s right, I don’t really get it.”

Dr. Marcel nods at me, and it's an almost smile. 

Kelley just sighs. "Crockett, please look at his hands?"

He nods, coming around to stand in front of me. "Lemme see."

I give him both. I just know they hurt. “Sorry, Dr. Marcel,” I say lowly. Kelley and Mouse start arguing, so I know she can’t hear me. “I should’ve gotten into it before then. I didn’t want her to think I didn’t think she could do it.”

"Hey, Tommy, it's okay," he says, gently manipulating my fingers. "It's not in any way your fault. It's not." He smiles at me. "Thank you for jumpin' in."

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t again, okay?” I try. He smiles, but I just want… I can’t let him think I’m not capable of taking care of her. Because I want to. If she’ll let me.

"Hey, kid, you're gettin' lost in your head. Keep it here, alright?" He says, wrapping and taping my fingers. "Tommy."

“Dr. Marcel?” I say, trying to focus. He knows I go off on tangents. I know Kate’s talked to me about it before. Even worse than Mouse, she said. Can’t help it. Gotta bounce from thing to thing to thing.

"I got you, kid." As he finishes, he leans forward, wrapping his arm around me.

“I… I know,” I say. “I’m glad you were there, Dr. Marcel. I know you don’t like it when she fights. I don’t either. But I’m glad you were there.”

"Goes both ways, Tommy. Goes both ways." He smiles at me, then looks sternly at Kelley. "You, Miss Marcks, have to listen to him," he says, pointing to Mouse, "and him." Now he points at me.

I give her a wide smile and a wave, then I cringe as my taped fingers throb a little. 

She smiles at me, and beckons me over. "Get up here, you lug nut."

I’m immediately there. Sometimes I don’t know how I get there. I just get there. Mouse is groaning.

“Y’all are gross.”

Kelley wraps her arms around me, laying her head on my chest. "I'm glad you're here, honey."

“I’m glad  _ you’re  _ here! I mean, I’m not glad you’re here, in the hospital. But I’m glad I’m with you!” 

“I’m out,” Mouse says, miming puking, as he leaves the room.

Kelley sighs, closing her eyes. 

Dr. Marcel just stands back, his hands in his pockets. 

"You two are good for each other," he says softly.

“They’re gross!” Mouse yells from outside.

“We’re not gross!” I yell back.

Dr. Marcel sighs. "Oh, before I forget, there's a couple of  _ bozos _ in the hallway who say they know you. Mind if I let them in?"

Kelley grips me tighter, giggling. With that, two younger guys, looking a little too enthusiastic about this all, poke their heads in. Yeah. Yeah, I remember them. I think I know who’s who.

“Hey!” I say. Kelley looks delighted.

"Blake," she giggles. "Did that fight pass muster?"

His face lights up. “That was  _ amazing! _ Between you and Kate?! That was…”

“It was stupid,” the other guy deadpans. 

“Oh, it was stupid,” Blake continues. Gallo! Blake Gallo! Yeah! The guy that climbs the firehouse with her and does stupid shit on calls with her! “It was so stupid. But it was the best, Kelley. And that was game one! Holy shit!”

She shrugs, looking up at me for a second. "I play every game like it's Game Seven."

She looks at the other guy. "Come on, Darren, it was a hell of a fight!"

Dr. Marcel just growls once.

Darren. Darren Ritter, yeah—she always spoke about how sweet he was. He doesn’t look as sweet now. He looks both concerned and worried about Gallo. His eyes flick from Gallo to Dr. Marcel. 

“It was a good fight,” he seems to admit, then backtracks. “But you’re gonna get yourself seriously hurt, you know.”

Kelley screeches. "All of you! You're all ganging up on me!" She's laughing. "'Kelley, calm down,' 'Kelley stop fighting!' That's it, the lot of you are cancelled, Blake's my favourite, he supports my fighting!"

“You can’t cancel me, you’re my girlfriend,” I say proudly. 

She squints at me. "Fine, okay. Kiss me then, boyfriend."

I smile at her and kiss her, once lightly, another a little bit harder. 

When I look back, Gallo looks skeptical while Ritter looks stoic. 

“Hey, Raz, is it?” Ritter says. 

Kelley just mutters, "oh, no."

“Ritter? Right?” I say, grinning. “Nice to officially meet you both.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gallo says. I think he’s brushing me off a little. “You think we could have a little chat outside?”

Kelley pulls me down to kiss me again quickly. "Deep breaths, they're teddy bears, they'll love you."

“W-what?” I say as Darren grabs my jersey sleeve and starts pulling me out of the room. “Kelley?”

But they both drag me out of earshot. Gallo crosses his arms, squinting at me. Darren glances at him and does the same.

“What… what’s up?”

“Kelley’s one of our best friends, you know. We work with her,” Gallo starts.

“Very closely,” Ritter articulates.

“We know shit. We hear shit.”

“We hear a lot,” Ritter says.

“Okay?”

“Let me ask you this,” Gallo begins, but Ritter interjects.

“What are your intentions with Kelley Marcks?”

“What… what are my intentions?” I stutter. “What the… You know, Dr. Marcel asked me that before the game tonight. What is everyone so worried about my intentions with Kelley?”

“Because we love her and we’ll kill you if you hurt her,” Ritter says quickly. Even Gallo glances at him, shocked. 

“I… I think I do too,” I say, crossing my arms. Ow. Damn fingers. “My intentions are to make her happy and protect her and… and be with her, okay?”

Gallo and Ritter share a long look. I don’t know what it means. 

“You work for the animal control office,” Gallo says. It’s not a question.

“Yeah! Been there since I was a senior in high school.”

“Dependable,” Ritter mutters. “Gainfully employed.”

“Where you live?” Gallo continues. 

“Little Village, what’s happening?”

“Decent area,” Ritter says. 

“Why didn’t you get into the fight earlier?” Gallo says, squinting.

“She’s a badass!” I chuckle. “I didn’t want to interfere, because she can handle herself. I only got into it when it got bad.”

“Feminist,” Ritter says. “Where was your first date?”

“Well, uh, that was complicated—”

“Uncomplicated it,” Gallo says.

“She came to my apartment after I had been dog bit? After we raided a puppy mill. She came by. We just… we made dinner. I was still in bad shape,” I admit.

“Simple,” Gallo says, still squinting. 

“Sweet,” Ritter retorts. “Likes animals!”

“Hobbies?” Gallo asks. 

“Uh? Hockey? I like… uh, hanging out with my dog? Oh! I read a lot of books on Chicago. Did you know Chicago had the first U.S. blood bank?”

Ritter just looks a little shocked, then smirks at Gallo. He’s starting to look a bit more convinced.

“Where was your first kiss?” Ritter says. Gallo finally glares at his friend.

“Is this an interrogation, or a romance novel?”

“Shut up, I wanna know.”

“New Years Eve,” I say happily. “Kate had texted me to come down. I was just gonna… you know, sit at home. Like I usually do. But Kelley was there, and she… she took me outside, and I was super nervous, and I told her I really liked hanging out with her, so I asked her if I could kiss her, and she just… kissed me.”

Ritter seems to sigh a little. Gallo goes back to squinting at me.

“You pass inspection,” He says. “But one false move, Rasmussen, and we take you out.”

“Like for dinner?” I ask excitedly.

“Yes, for dinner,” Ritter says, nodding. Gallo smacks him a little. 


	42. if the house just keeps on winning (I got a wildcard up my sleeve)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley wakes up feeling off, and after a call, things go downhill exceptionally fast. But with the full force of House 51 behind her and trying to get her to stop getting sick, they eventually take her to Gaffney, leading to a confrontation with Mouse, Kate, and Crockett about their emotional health.

_ I'll keep a light on in my soul (I'll keep a bluebird in my heart) _ _   
_ **March 16, 2020** **   
** **0912 Hours** **   
** **Firehouse 51** **   
** **Kelley **

I don't want to work today....

Just one of the days where I just wake up, feeling off. 

Crockett is on a double today, so I think we're supposed to get off at the same time tomorrow. That would be nice. He said he'd cook. I'm okay with that. 

I park in my normal spot and head up the driveway, stopping for a second to blow a kiss to the monument like I always do. 

Once I get in the door, it's all so loud, so I grab coffee, and I think about sitting down, but all the chatter is grating. Makes my head swim.

Screw it. 

I head for the bunk room, sinking down on the bed and setting my coffee on the floor by my foot. There's that dull throbbing in the side of my head, so I flop forward onto the bed, and it's quiet, and it's dark. It's heaven.

"Kelley?"

I just hum. I don't want to move.

“Where’s my work wife? Kelley? What’re you doin’ in here?”

"It's quiet, Blake," I say into the covers.

“C’mon, Duke,” he says, and I feel his hand on my back. “What’s goin’ on?” He drops his voice low. “Your head still hurting?”

"Shut up, Houdini. Yeah no shit, head hurts," I say, but his hand on my back makes me a little less jumpy.

“Anything else?” He says, ignoring my tone. 

"Just feel a bit off, that's all," I say, sitting up a bit so I can look at him.

“Hey, girl!” He says, not at his typical volume. “Can I get you anything? Water? A sandwich?”

I shake my head, just leaning into him for a second. 

Until then the tones drop, and I groan.

“Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambo 61.House fire, 2313 S Hoyne. Be advised, squatters have been spotted inside.”

I get up, wobbling a bit. Way too soon, fire. Way too soon.

Blake watches me stand before bouncing and running. “You good, Kelley?”

"Yeah, I'm good, let's go!" 

I get into my turnout, but it almost feels like I'm moving through water. Herrmann's shouting at Clarence, and I look around for Darren.

He bounces past me. “Let’s go! Finally!”

“Someone could be hurt, Ritter,” Kidd calls out, but then bursts into a wide smile. 

“Stop messing with me!” He calls after her. 

I just huddle into the seat.

Time for work. Headache later.

———

“Good work back there, Duke!” Blake calls out as we make it back to the house. 

I just smile, and as I jump out, I feel sick again. The sirens just made it so much worse.

I reset my turnout, but everything's foggy.

Oh god. I… nope. 

I hightail it through the bay, and I make it into the bathroom in time to lose the one stupid bagel I'd gotten down this morning.

I just hear Cruz’s voice as I book it— “well, that ain’t good.”

I would say something funny, but I hug the toilet instead as I gag. No, it ain't good.

“Marcks? Kelley, where are you—“

I hear Sev as he seemingly looks for me in the bathroom.

"In… in here," I say, gagging again. 

“Hey, woah, Kelley, are you okay?” He says, and then Cruz— “what happened? Did you feel shitty this morning?”

Too many questions, makes my head pound. 

I flip them both off, and Iean my head on the stall wall.

“I’m getting Brett,” Sev says, and Cruz kneels down on the floor next to me. 

“When did this start?”

"Felt off this morning, but thought it was just headache," I say, and then I retch again. Can it just stop?

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay,” Cruz murmurs. I feel him gather my hair and pull it back, and then starts running his free hand over my back. “Severide is gettin’ Sylvie.”

"Feel like shit, Joe," I whisper.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers. “Sylvie will be here in a second.”

I try to look up but everything is too foggy. "Sylv?"

She slides down next to Cruz and gives me a warm smile. “Hey, what’s going on? When did this all start?”

Sev lurks behind her, arms crossed, looking concerned. 

"This morning," I say quietly. "Felt off, then this when we got back to the house."

She's got the bag with her, and a thermometer in her hand. 

It tastes like metal. 

"100.3," she says. "Do you feel like laying down?"

I just shrug.

“You gotta puke anymore?” Cruz says.

"I don't know," I whisper. Glancing out past Sylvie and Cruz, I see Severide talking to Casey. 

“Take her to my bunk. Closer,” he says to Severide. 

I smile at Casey, but I feel like shit. But I try to force myself off the floor anyway. 

“Yeah, not gonna happen,” Sev mutters. “Move, Cruz.”

He scuttles out of the way and before I realize it, Severide has me in a bridal carry.

"Sev?" I ask, confused. "Why you carryin' me?"

“You’re sick and literally couldn’t get up off the floor,” he grumbles. 

"Sorry," I whisper. 

“What? No. Shut up, Goose,” he mutters, and Casey opens the door to his bunk, holding it open for us. 

I hear that familiar accent of Herrmann’s as he catches sight. 

I wave at him, and he pushes his way in. 

"Hey, kid, what's goin' on? What's this I hear?"

I just shrug. "Apparently I'm sick," I say, mock glaring at Sev.

“Found her puking in the bathroom,” Severide says, laying me down on Casey’s bunk. 

"Kelley," Herrmann says. "You need to go home."

I shake my head. "No."

Blake pops out from the common room, looking worried. “Hey, what’s this about you puking? I asked you this morning if you felt like shit.”

I just shrug, smiling at him. "I'm fine, " I say. 

He points at me accusingly. “You know  _ full well _ you are  _ not _ fine.”

“We should tell Boden,” Casey says quietly to Severide. 

I whine once. 

"I'm fine."

Herrmann's brushing the stray hair from my face, and he nods to Casey.

I just sigh, letting my eyes close.

“Herrmann’s right,” Blake mutters, chewing on… something. “You should go home.”

I shake my head. "No."

Herrmann looks frustrated. 

“Why not?” Severide says, crossing his arms. “You should go home.”

“Gonna get us all sick,” Capp says from the other side of the room. 

I sigh. "No one's home," I whisper. "'Kett's on a double."

“What about the Gerwitzes?” Gallo offers. 

“Class all day, department meeting tonight,” Sylvie says. “Not going to be home until later.”

“How about that kid, Raz?” Cruz says. 

I whine. "No, he's working the midnight tonight, he's probably asleep right now."

“Halsteads?” Casey suggests. 

"Will's on shift, and I don't know about Jay."

I push my head into the pillow, and everything hurts.

“Well, if we can’t get a hold of anyone, we’re gonna handle this ourselves,” Sylvie says definitively. “Cruz, Herrmann, split the watch. I’ll check on her fever.”

Herrmann nods, standing up from where her was beside me. 

"We got you, kid," he says.

I nod, and gag. In one fluid motion, Cruz pulls the trash bag from the trash can and hands it to me.

"Thanks," I mutter when I stop, tears leaking from my eyes. 

“Give her some space, alright?” Cruz says, holding my hair back again. The growing crowd disperses. 

"Hate this," I whisper, curling back up. "Don't feel good, Joe."

“I know,” he says. He keeps rubbing my back and looking at Herrmann.

Herrmann disappears for a minute before coming back with a cloth, and he lays it on my forehead.

It's so blessedly cool. 

"Thank you," I say, and he nods. 

"I don't like this," I hear him say to Joe quietly.

“I know, but what other choice do we have? Everyone’s booked. Could take her to Med, but what good’ll that do? She’s better off with us.”

"Still don't like it," he mutters. "Kelley, honey, how you feelin'?"

I just shake my head. "Like everything hurts and my stomach is trying to escape via my throat."

“Hey, lemme talk to her,” Blake says, gesturing to the boys to leave. 

"Hey," I say softly.

“Hey,” he says worriedly. “You think this has anything to do with…” he drifts, waving his hand around his own head. 

I shrug. "Don't think so."

“How can we be sure?” He asks. 

"Doubt it, none of my other concussions had me with a 100.3 fever." 

I dig my fingers into my temple, trying to get the headache to quit.

He pushes my hands down and takes over. “C’mere.”

I scoot closer, leaning into him. "I feel like hell, Blakey," I whisper.

“I know. You mind if I watch over you, send Herrmann and Cruz back to the common room?” He says, brushing my hair back from my face. 

I sigh, snuggling into him. "No, that's good. Thanks."

He kisses my forehead as I start to fall asleep.

* * *

I blink awake, and the light stabs my eyes. 

I don't realize I'm heaving until I already am, and God, just please make it stop.

“Hey, you’re okay, don’t cry,” I hear Blake saying. He’s holding the trash can as I puke. “No, Herrmann, I got it. We’re good.”

I lean back, wiping my mouth. "Blake?"

“Yes, work wife?”

I giggle, then wince. "Kinda wonderin', how long was I out?"

“About… four, so a while, why?”

"I haven't heard the tones, and you're still here, haven't there been calls?"

“Uhh… huh,” he finally lands on. “I guess not.”

Mouch walls by, pokes his head in before calling, “slow day!”

“Yeah,” I hear Casey’s voice. “Slow day. Don’t… don’t question it when it’s quiet.”

“Take it as a gift,” Mouch says, looking around and then leaving. 

"Oh," I say, and I nod. "Okay. Blake?"

He gives me a smile. “Darling wife?”

"Is there still Gatorade left? I don't remember if I finished the orange or not."

“I can go check? Send…. anyone to go check. Hang on, cover your ears. Hey, Ritter!” He yells. “Go check for orange Gatorade!”

“I’m on it!” He yells back.

"Loud."

“Sorry, baby. Hang on.”

Darren returns. “No more orange. Only have that arctic blitz left.”

I heave again.

“Oh, brutal,” he says. 

“I need someone to get orange Gatorade. STAT.”

“We’ll go!” 

Capp’s voice rings out, and I can fuzzily make out Capp and Tony from the other side of the room. 

“Why are you all the way over there?” Blake calls out. 

“We’re good over here, thanks!” Capp says back. “Chief, can we take the rig?”

Boden stands with his hands on his hips. I can hear the concern in his voice. “Yes, you may take the rig.”

“There. Gonna take a few minutes, but we’ll get you that orange Gatorade, okay?” Blake says, rubbing my back. 

Oh boy.

"Hey, Chief," I say, and he always looks intimidating with his hands on his hips.

“Marcks, how we doin’?” He says, his voice dropping a few decibels. 

"Sketchy, sir." I try to smile, but it hurts, so I lean into Blake instead.

“Touch and go. Slept about five hours, until now,” Blake says. 

“You… you need anything?” Boden asks. 

"A new head and a will to live," I joke. 

“Wish I could, Marcks, wish I could,” he mutters. 

Herrmann pushes past Boden, wide-eyed. "You okay? Kelley?" He gets on his knees on the floor, staring at me. "You okay?"

I nod. "It was a joke, Herrmann." 

He nods, but looks unconvinced. 

I feel more unconvinced when I throw up again.

“Herrmann, back in the bunk room,” Boden sighs like an angry dad. “Don’t crowd the girl.”

He smiles once, but I see the uncertainty. 

"It's okay," I say. 

He nods and leaves, and I burrow into Blake. 

Next up are Kidd and Foster, and Boden just groans. 

“Can we limit our exposure, please?”

I wave at them. "Hey Em, Stella, what's up?"

“I’ve been on the Internet,” Stella begins. 

“I’ve been in the rig—“

“Doing what, exactly?” Boden sighs.

“Looking up remedies,” Stella says at the same time as Emily says, “looking for supplies”.

“Both of you,  _ out.” _

I giggle a bit. "Chief?"

“Yes, Marcks.”

"Thank you," I whisper. 

He just nods once. “Gallo, you've got this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

I lean back, and the headache stabs me again, and I hear myself whimper. Pillow. Pillow over head. Block everything out.

Before I realize it, Blake is talking to someone else.

“Just give me the damn Gatorade, you’re not gonna die, Capp.”

“Fine. She…. she good?”

“She will be, once you give me the Gatorade, God.”

I chuckle. And then whine, because  _ ow.  _

“Hey, girl,” Blake says, “Got you your Gatorade. You wanna try some?”

I nod and force myself to sit up, reaching for it.

Blake pops it open and helps me hold it, guiding it to my lips. 

"I'm not a kid," I mutter, even though my hands are shaking. But I'm drinking it, and it's good. Probably first thing I've had since I left home this morning. 

“I know you’re not a kid, I’m just trying to help,” Blake says quietly. “How’re you feeling?”

"Dizzy," I whisper. "Head really hurts, sick."

“Yeah, don’t doubt that,” he says, brushing my hair back from my face. “Can I get you anything? Or, more literally, can Ritter get you anything?”

I shake my head, then realize I really need to stop doing that. 

"Just wanna stay put," I say, letting my eyes close. 

“We can do that,” Blake says. “I ain’t leaving you.”

* * *

Everything hurts, but I'm cold.

And it's dark. Like someone turned the light out. 

Oh, someone did. 

Dunno what time it is, but I need water.

Blake's asleep, so I try to scoot off the bed without waking him up. Herrmann's asleep on the bunk closest, and I gotta be even quieter, because he sleeps light enough a mouse could sneeze in Guatemala and he'd wake up.

I finally make it to the common room, and I'm so dizzy. 

Water. Need water. 

I down the glass, and I'm suddenly tired. 

Bed sounds good.

And then everything starts spinning.

"Oh, okay," I giggle. "Time for the flat tire."

I'm giggling hard enough I just see the floor rushing at me.

I blink, and I hear swearing. 

I'm on the floor, so when did that happen?

"Kelley? Kelley! Hey, come on, kid. Look at me!" 

Herrmann? He sounds worried. Gotta figure out why. 

"Gallo!" He's yelling. Maybe Blake's climbing the wall again. He's not supposed to do that without me. "Ritter, hey, anybody!"

Why's he yelling?

And then I'm flying. I'm in the air. 

Oh, Herrmann is carrying me? Why?

"Alright!" Herrmann yells, and I cover my ears. "Somebody call the Gerwitzes and tell them to meet us at Med!"

He's carrying me, and then he's not. There's… that's a seat belt. I'm in his truck. 

He's driving me to Gaffney. 

What a dad.

I hear him yelling at me, something about eyes open or some shit, but I'm too tired to listen.

* * *

**Mouse**

I stand in the waiting room in Gaffney. I swear to God, we spend too much time here. I keep tapping my fingers against my arm. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s a nervous tic. Can’t stop it. Not at this point.

I check my watch. Should be here soon. They’re lucky we were awake at two in the morning. But that’s not a big surprise. Not with Kate feeling like shit and me waking up with nightmares. Tired, but can’t sleep. 

And now Kelley’s sick as fuck, and I can’t take this shit anymore.

"We're here," Herrmann calls, and he's carrying her. She's wiggly, but she looks tiny. 

"Herrmann, put me down, gotta… gotta- shut up Raz, gonna eat your kneecaps," Kelley's muttering.

He surges to the desk, and then Maggie's at the door, telling him to come in. 

He follows her, and then lays her on the bed, turning to me and Kate. Kate rubs her head. I know the headache’s been worse and worse lately, but she doesn’t say anything. She just turns to Herrmann.

“How bad?”

"Hit the ground, I woke up and she was out cold. She's been puking on and off since shift started."

“Stomach flu, or concussion?” Kate asks drowsily.

Herrmann sighs. "I think stomach flu. She's been running a fever, 100.3 when we first checked, and then about two hours ago it was 103.5." 

Kelley's squirming, and she keeps muttering.

"Face off time, my head hurts, hey!" She cries, giggling. "Roll down ya window!"

Herrmann looks back at her, and he's worried, I can see it on his face as he presses a hand first to Kelley's cheek, then her forehead. 

"She didn't even react when I got to her," he says quietly.

“She’s literally delirious,” Kate mutters. She’s in clashing colors, my red hoodie and her green plaid pajama pants. “Where the fuck is Crockett?”

"Why the hell is Kate here?" I hear him say from the hallway, and he pulls the curtain open. 

"Seriously? Mouse, Kate? Herrmann? What in hell you all doin' here?" 

Herrmann moves aside to let him see Kelley, and Crockett blinks once, his eyes suddenly like ice. 

"What the hell is going on?" 

“We just got here,” Kate mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “Ask Herrmann.”

"She's been sick since shift started," Herrmann says, brushing back Kelley's hair. "Thrown up maybe a dozen times, but she passed out in the kitchen, out cold when I got to her. Figured I'd bring her here."

Crockett nods, and he's mad. 

"Why the hell did nobody call me?"

"She said you were on shift, and didn't want to bother you."

"Why did nobody send her home?"

"She didn't want to bother anybody."

“She coulda called us,” Kate says, exasperated.

"Sylvie said y'all had classes and a meeting," Herrmann says, and Kelley nods.

“One of us could have come!” I say, “Same info, same household! It would’ve been fine!” 

"Gotta face off!" Kelley screeches, launching herself off the bed.

“Jesus,” I say, reaching out to grab for her. She slides a little off the bed, but I catch her before she hits the hard floor. “Kelley, stand down!”

Crockett moves closer, and he's angry. "Anybody could've called me. I work in a damn hospital."

He gets the oximeter on her finger, and the blood pressure cuff before starting to hook up an IV. 

"Herrmann, thanks for lookin' after her. Herrmann?"

The man in question comes back, hauling Will by the front of his scrubs. "Figured you'd need backup."

Kelley gags. I’m surprised. This time, I don’t feel like puking. 

But Kate does. 

She has to head out of the room and to the nurses’ station.

Kelley's bouncing, and Crockett shakes his head. "May have to dope her up, Will."

Kelley screeches again, and this time bursts into tears.

“Woah, woah, woah,” I say, stepping towards her. “Hey. What’s these tears for?”

Herrmann looks at Kelley, then out into the hall and back. "I'll check on Kate," he offers, brushing a hand to my shoulder as he passes me. 

I brush her hair back from her face. “Kelley, you know you weren’t gonna bother us,” I say. “That’s what we’re for.”

She shakes her head. "Don't drug me."

“Then you need to stay in bed,” I murmur.

"I need to get on the ice!!" 

This isn’t going to work. She’s literally delirious, and she’s not going to listen unless I help her through it. It’s like a fuckin’ flashback. 

“Yo, Claude, you’ve been sent to the sin bin,” I snap in my drill voice. “They ejected you from the game! Too much fighting!”

"Oh," she says quietly. "Okay." A moment passes, and then she screeches a pigeon noise at me.

“The zebra’s gonna eject you from the rink if you keep making those noises!”

"Oh." She nods, and looks around. "Mousey, you're here," she tells me seriously. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m in the sin bin too,” I say, lowering my voice. “Beat the shit out of Berks.”

She says nothing, but heaves. I grab for that weird puke bowl thing and make it just in time. 

“Can you do  _ something _ for her?” I say to Will and Crockett. Crockett looks over from where they'd been quietly talking, and he nods. "She calmer now?"

“Maybe?” I say, pulling her hair back. I can feel the sweat on her from here. Lord. 

She looks up and the tears are rolling again. 

Crockett comes up alongside, fiddling with the IV as Will checks her temperature again.

"Mouse," she whimpers.

“What do you need, Kelley? What do you need?”

"Need to get back on the ice. Let me go."

“You’re not allowed, they’re gonna eject you from the league.”

Crockett nods to Will, and they switch places. Will pushes something into the IV port, and Kelley keeps crying. I pull her into my chest, brushing her hair back, trying to shush her.

Slowly, she stops, and her eyes close. 

Will steps back, checking the monitors. "There, drugged."

“How bad is it? Where the hell did she even catch it?” I say, still holding onto her. 

"Could have been anywhere," Crockett says lowly. "Lot of viruses goin' around right now." 

“It’s not anything to do with…” I drift, raising my eyebrow at Crockett. 

"I don't think so." But he looks worried anyway. Will pats my shoulder. 

"If she needs more sleepy drugs, I'm around."

I sigh, just glancing at Crockett. 

“You look all official,” I say. “Cute scrubs.”

He half-assedly twirls. "Thanks," he mutters, before frowning and checking the clock.

“What, you got a hot date?”

"No, but…" he pokes his head out the door. "Will, hit up her other emergency contact, okay?"

He turns back to me, leaning on the bed.

“She gonna be okay?”

"Mouse, honestly? She's not taking care of herself properly." He sighs, rubbing his thumb over her hand.

“Wait, what? When did this happen? I thought…. I thought she was doing better?!”

"So did I." He drops his voice lower, and now he sounds more tired than frustrated. "May be the fact that we're getting closer to May."

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, scratching my wrist. “I get it. Last week…” I drift, looking out to where Kate stands with Herrmann. “Both of us know a bit about the whole ‘getting worse at a time of year’ thing.”

Will pops in. "He's calling you in a second, Crockett, just warning you," he says, and he's gone again. 

Crockett gazes at Kelley, and pulls his phone out so he's ready.

I don’t know if Crockett truly realizes it, but Kate and I, we get it. We go too hard because we feel too much. That’s why Kate’s feeling the way she is. That’s why I’m feeling like I do. 

“She’ll be okay,” I murmur, almost to myself.

He nods, and picks up his phone as it rings. "Be ready," he mouths at me. "Hi, Tommy, yeah, it's me."

Be ready for what? I wonder, watching for Crockett’s signal. I’m so tired. God, I’m gonna fall asleep standing up.

"You're here? No I won't tell Jay Halstead on you. Shit, okay. Okay." He hangs up.

"Tommy is on the way in," he says quietly, and he reaches up, not to touch Kelley, but to brush my hair back from where it's falling into my face.

“Thanks, man,” I mutter. I open my eyes wide so I can try to focus. I don’t think I’m ready for Raz right now, but it is what it is. 

Crockett pushes aside the curtain just enough for a blond hurricane. 

It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in his uniform, but he looks a little bit disheveled, jacket half on and keys in his hand.

“Crockett,” he says breathlessly. “Mouse. Hey, what happened? How is she? What… what happened?”

"She's sick, but we think she'll be okay," Crockett says, giving him a half smile. "She's here because she passed out during shift, dehydrated. Figured you'd want to know."

“Passed… passed out? Dehydrated? I thought… she was doing okay? I mean, when she was… she didn’t seem like… she didn’t seem out of sorts with me?”

He grabs her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Tommy, you want to sit with her for a minute? I need to talk to Mouse," Crockett says, giving him a half hug.

“A’course,” he mutters, sinking down to sit on the side of the bed. I follow Crockett out of the room, brushing my hair back again.

"Thank you for comin'," he says softly.

“Well, yeah,” I scoff. “Why wouldn’t we come?”

He sighs, but doesn't say anything. 

“Crockett, c’mon. Full disclosure, buddy.”

"Not doin' the hottest at helpin' her," he says, leaning on the wall. "She's hurtin', and I don't know what to do. And then this shit happens."

“Let me know what we can do,” I say. “We can do better. We can… we can come by, or-or she can come stay with us if you need her to. Tell me what we can do.”

"I think I've been wakin' her up the past week or so," he admits absentmindedly, looking down the hall.

“Nightmares?” I whisper. 

He nods. "She keeps comin' to see if I'm okay."

“She loves you, man. She’s trying to help. You can’t fault her for that.”

"It's takin' its toll, Mouse! Neither of us is sleeping, and now she's sick." He sighs again. "Sorry to unload like that."

“Never apologize to me for that,” I say sharply, and then I breathe. “Never. I’m always here for you. You know that.”

"Feels like half of it's for somethin' goin' wrong," he mutters. "Gotta apologize for it. It's who I am."

“I’ll break you of it eventually,” I say, chuckling. “I’d let her stay with us, but I don’t know if it would be much better.”

"I don't know what to do," he mutters again, leaning on the wall. "Just want to help her."

“She could stay with me.”

We both look up and see Raz, leaning on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. 

I just blink. I’m too tired for his romantic shit right now.

"Tommy, how long you been there?" Crockett asks.

“You were apologizing to Mouse,” he says. “You apologize a lot when you shouldn’t. She could come stay with me.”

Crockett blinks. "That's okay with you?"

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t it?” He says. “I can sleep on the couch.”

Crockett doesn't look like he knows what to do. 

"You'd have to talk that over with her," he says helplessly. 

“We did a while ago,” he says. “She said she didn’t want to freak you out. She didn’t want to leave you alone, either. I told her the option was still open.”

Crockett leans on the wall, staring at him. "Run it by her when she wakes up. If that's what you two decide, go for it, okay?"

I squint my eyes at Raz. He catches it and swallows hard. I think he gets the picture.

Crockett looks to me, like he's asking me what he should do. 

“She’s a big girl. If that’s what she wants, and if that’s what will help, it’s what they should do.”

He nods, then smiles at Raz. "Thank you."

He smiles first, and then he stops, steps towards Crockett and pulls him into a bear hug. 

Crockett hugs him back, and when he finally steps away, his eyes are suspiciously wet. Raz considers going back into the room, but pulls me into a bear hug, too. 

“You’re a good kid,” I tell him.

“I try.”


	43. 'Cause we find ourselves in the same old mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mouse and Kate go out on St. Patrick's Day, and it ends both how they expect and how they don't expect it: with a declaration of fatherhood and a Cavanagh-Halstead fight.

**March 17, 2020  
2014 Hours  
** **Molly’s Pub, Chicago  
** **Mouse**

Kate? She’s  _ terrifying.  _ She’s absolutely terrifying. She’s not even that drunk. She’s just with the Halsteads, and I hear her screaming along with the Dropkick Murphy’s at the top of her lungs alongside Will. 

She made me wear green. I look at Herrmann.

“At what point can we cut her off?”

"I genuinely don't know what to tell you," he says. "You realize this is… she's sorta scary, actually."

“She always has been. She always will be. She is the once and future queen of fear,” I chuckle, finishing off my Guinness. It’s busy in here. Little uncomfortable. But still. She’s with the Halsteads in their natural habitat. 

"Ah, yeah. She's a damn legend," he says. He pulls a glass, polishing it while he whistles.

“People always say that, don’t they?” I say, smirking. She’s in Will’s face now, probably challenging him to some sort of duel. “She needs to start being more careful.”

"You think? She's a little… little wild."

“Don’t get me wrong, I love that. I love it. I love her,” I sigh. “She’s just… well, let me put it this way. She needs to cool it. Not just for herself. For… for some others, maybe.”

"You workin' on rugrats?" 

I blink. It’s so blunt, I’m almost taken aback. “Uh, yeah. Yes. We are. That’s weird to say out loud.”

He grins. "It was the same way with us. Except… it wasn't too hard to try with us."

“I have a feeling it’s either going to be incredibly hard or incredibly easy.”

There’s a screech, and Kate sits down next to me. Well, not next to me. On top of the bar.

“Now I’m aimin’ for heaven, but probably wind up down in hell!” She cries out over the loud bar. 

“Jesus  _ Christ _ , Kate, can you lower your mouth siren?!”

"Oh, boy," Herrmann mutters. "The world is ending."

She just pulls Jay into her, into a tight hug as she continues her screeching. 

“Mouth siren!” I call out over the din of the bar. 

She just flips me off.

"This is appalling," Jay deadpans, then abruptly carries on Kate's screeching.

Will just sinks down onto the stool next to them, laughing so hard his face is turning red. 

“I don’t care,” she calls out, to no one in particular, as she scrambles to hand Herrmann her glass. 

“I would like another Guinness, please.”

Herrmann snorts, filling it up again. "You're nuts, Kate. Totally nuts."

She leans back, nearly falling back over the edge of the bar. She would have completely somersaulted, had Jay not caught her. 

“Christopher,” she calls, drawling out the name. “I love you. So much. Where’s Hank?  _ Hank! _ ” She yells. 

Herrmann sighs. "Well as of ten minutes ago, he was in my back store room takin' a call, as of ten seconds ago, he's right behind you."

She completely flops back, giggling, as she just waits for Hank to catch her.

He pushes her back up with a hand, looking bemused. "How hammered?"

“She’s about at a six,” Will says. “This is pretty normal, actually. For a St. Patrick’s Day celebration? She’s actually about a four.”

I just glare at Herrmann. 

"She pays," he says with a shrug. "Hank, want anythin'?"

Hank shrugs. "Maybe later. Gonna sit back and watch this unfold."

“Get your handcuffs ready,” I mutter under my breath. Kate just laughs. 

“You should know better!” She crows. “I would just  _ like it! _ ”

Will just grimaces. “Didn’t need to know that.”

Hank just sighs. "Ain't the first time, but I could just put her in the cage."

She leans back again, back into Hank. “Would Mouse be invited?” She asks incredulously.

"No fuckin' in my district cage!"

She pouts a little. “A little fuckin’ in the cage? The cage would be so much  _ fun _ !”

I just chug the rest of my beer.

"I am not impressed."

“Jay,  _ move _ ,” she says, pushing him out of the way and catapulting herself off the bar. “William, you must dance with me!”

“I ain’t gonna fuckin’ Riverdance—”

“That’s what she said,” Kate calls out. 

“That’s not even a  _ good _ ‘that’s what she said’ joke!” Will says as his hand is grasped and he’s pulled off to another part of the bar.

"That's what she said," Jay says conspiratorially, snickering.

“I cannot believe we’re trying to have kids,” I mutter under my breath. 

'You think it's a good idea?" Hank deadpans. "I am appalled."

“You think it’s a  _ bad _ idea?” I ask, suddenly nervous.

"Nah, it's a great idea. I need grandchildren  _ somehow." _

I feel like I bluescreen. “Oh. Yeah. That. There’s that.” I just glance at Jay. 

"Nah, don't look at me. I'm not his kid. I'm his detective."

“I mean, what do  _ you _ think?” I ask. “Seriously. I guess, in this midst of this green encased bacchanalia, I’m taking a poll. As my wife tries to Riverdance in the middle of this bar.”

"She's tryin' to  _ something,"  _ Hank says. 

I look over my shoulder, and I see her trying  _ desperately _ to do something related to the ceili dances she used to do. I don’t remember the last time she went, honestly. She’s just trying her hardest, and Will is just holding onto her hands, trying to keep her stable. 

"Hey, kid! Doin' good!" Herrmann calls. 

"Hey, Kate! The hell  _ is  _ that?" Jay says, and he just wiggles on the barstool.

“You think you could do better?” She calls out, half-slurred.

"Nope!" He says joyfully. 

She flips him off with both hands, and then tries to fall over. Will catches her and just starts losing it. 

“She doesn’t get to do this a lot,” I sigh, watching the complete and utter insanity. “This is good for her.”

"It's good to see her like this," Hank says softly. "Really good."

She automatically grabs for Jay, ripping him off the stool. “My brother!” She cries. “You will dance with me!”

"Sarge, save me!"

"Like hell I will," he says, taking a glass from Herrmann with a casual grin. "Thanks, Chris."

I just laugh as she forces Jay to dance with her—albeit slightly awkwardly—as they bounce to whatever Flogging Molly song they have piping through the speakers. 

“Yeah, it’s happening,” I say under my breath. “I don’t care. Boy or girl. I really don’t.”

"Whatcha gonna do if it's…  _ both?"  _ Comes the whisper, and when I look, Hank's buried in his glass and Herrmann is wiping the bar.

I shudder. “You’re gonna curse me, Voight. Sergeant. Hank. I don’t know. What do I even call you anymore?”

There’s a gasp from the dance floor Kate has started as she flings herself back to the bar. 

“Hank! Hank, Hank, Hank, Hank!  _ Hank! _ ”

" _ Shit,  _ hi, hello, hey," he says, catching an armload of Kate. "Hey, kid, can I help you?"

“Hank!  _ Hank _ ,” she says again. “Oh, my God, Hank! Did I tell you? Did I  _ tell you _ ? Mouse and I are gonna have  _ babies _ .”

"I am aware," he says, nodding as he practically holds her up. "I'm aware."

Tears start to well in her eyes. I check my wrist. “Look at the time, gotta go.”

“Hank, I have a question for you—”

“I’m gonna get her home.”

“Unhand me, you  _ animal _ !” She cries. I’m not holding onto her. She just pushes her hair back from her face and takes Hank’s shoulders. “You. Henry Voight. What’s your middle name?”

"Michael," he says lowly, almost confused.

“Patron saint a’cops,” she hiccups. “Nice. Henry Michael Voight, I have a question to ask you. Nay! This isn’t a request, this is a  _ declaration!” _

“She’s a St. Patrick’s Day seven,” Will gasps. 

“I didn’t even see her get any more drinks!” I hiss.

Will just taps his chest. “The drunkenness is in here, bud.”

"Continue with your declaration, my child," Hank teases her.

“That’s the one!” She cries. I don’t think she’s got a lower volume at this point. “Help me up. Help me up.”

She just crawls up onto the stool, and I go to grab for her, but she slaps my hands away.

"What?" He steadies her as she gets up. "Kate, what the hell you talkin' bout?"

“I have an announcement to make!” She slurs. “Henry Michael Voight… is my dad now! That is all. Help me down,” she grumbles, reaching for Hank. I just laugh behind my hand.

“Herrmann, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m taking her home right now.”

Hank just hugs her to him, and Herrmann lets out a loud 'awwww.'

“Don’t support this behavior!”

She flips me off. 

“Should I prep like, a hospital room for her?” Will says. “She’s gonna wake up with one helluva headache.”

"Love you, kid," Hank says softly, kissing her cheek.

She takes his face in her hands. “I love you. Gonna name my firstborn after you.”

“Uh, didn’t you promise that to Jay like, a million years ago?” Will offers.

"Wait, I thought you promised Will that," Jay says confusedly.

“Shhhhh,” she says, her finger not quite making it to her mouth. 

“She also promised it to Dr. Charles,” I pipe up. Without looking, she just pushes her hand into my face, nearly poking my eyes.

“Ow?”

"Aw, hell yeah," Jay says, hopping up on the bar. "Fight, fight, fight-"

Will starts chanting along with Jay, and Kate starts pushing up her sleeves. “Who wants a rabbit punch?”

He automatically just drops down and away from what could be her punch.

"Yes, yes, yes, drill him, c'mon," Jay hollers.

"Oh, God," Herrmann mutters. "Great. A cat fight."

“Do not drill me! I’m a dog, at best,” Will says. 

Kate just tries to scramble towards Will, Hank still in between them. Hank just casually picks her up, holding her about half a foot above the ground like a puppy above water. She keeps scrambling in mid-air. 

“You’re an Irish setter, and I wanna scratch your face off!” Kate cries. 

“I should take her home. I should definitely take her home, unless Hank, you wanna put her in the drunk tank.”

“Noooooo!” Kate whines. “Hank, dad, daddy, please don’t send me to the drunk tank!”

He looks at her, nearly surprised, but nods. "Okay, kiddo, I won't. I won't. Irish setter though, I might."

Will scoffs. “Uh, what did  _ I  _ do?!”

“Exist!” Kate barks. “Lemme punch him! I wanna fight him!”

“You’re wasted, and can’t hold yourself up without outside help!” Will counters.

"Hey, I ain’t outside, I'm family!" Hank crows. 

Will makes a hand motion of a box. “I mean physically!”

She launches herself over Hank’s shoulder and nearly grabs for Will, but he parries, pulling out of the way just quick enough.

"Noooo," Jay cries, manhandling Will into position for Kate’s access.

“Outside!” She roars. “I’m not breaking anything in my other dad’s precious bar!”

"We're her dads?" Herrmann mutters, and Hank shrugs.

"'Parrently."

Jay drags Will for the door.

“Kate!” I call after her as she runs towards the door and nearly ping-pongs off a couple of patrons. “Kate, please, do not fight Will Halstead in the street—”

“Not gonna be in the street, gonna be on the sidewalk, I  _ demand satisfaction! _ ” 

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Herrmann, I’m so sorry.”

"You just make sure she doesn't get hurt," he grumbles, but gives me a grin. I run after the group, catching the door as I go. 

Outside, Kate clings to Hank. “Hank! Hank, Hank. Hank. You’re my second.”

Will throws his hands into the air. “Are you quoting  _ Hamilton? _ ”

“First off, always,” she says. “Secondly, pick your second!”

Will looks at Jay, and then points to me. “Mouse, you wanna be my second?”

“Against my  _ wife?! _ Is that safe?”

She just mimes cocking a gun with her fingers, aiming it at me and making a ‘boom’ noise.

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ll be your second. Hey, Hank, is there any way we can stop this shit?”

He shrugs, bouncing on his heels. "She's scrappy."

I point at him. “You’re not helping.”

“Good thing we’ve got a doctor on site!”

“You’re the one who  _ challenged me! _ ”

She just starts barrelling towards Will. 

"Oh, shit," Jay crows. "Drill him, Kate!" 

I don’t even have time to step in, she just catapults herself at Will and takes him to the ground, rabbit punching him in the face. 

“Shit, I didn’t think that was gonna hit!” Will cries, trying to push her off. “Mouse! Help me!”

She just lets out the loudest, most gleeful cackle.

"Alright, kid, made your point." Hank reaches down, plucking her off Will and bear-hugging her to his body. "You're done, Kate. Let the man breathe."

Luckily enough for Will, she didn’t break his nose, but he’s bleeding a little from his mouth as I help him up. 

She just keeps  _ laughing _ . Laughing at the top of her lungs. 

"Will?" Jay asks, straightening. "You- you okay?" 

He steadies himself, takes one look at his brother, and smashes a solid right hook to his face.

Jay stumbles back, giving Will a reproachful look. "That was… that's fair. You're a dick." He staggers forward again, straight into Will, just… just standing there against him.

“KC and the Halstead Boys, drunk together again!” Kate cries. 

"Yep, you're done," Hank says, carrying Kate over and shoving her at me. "Take this. I think it's yours."

“I’m gonna throw up!” She says dramatically. I just crouch a little and throw her over my shoulder. “I told you, I’m gonna throw up!”

“You don’t throw up!”

“I do  _ now! _ ”

I roll my eyes and salute at the now bleeding Halsteads. “Is this how your St. Patrick’s Day usually ends up?”

Will glances to Jay, and then starts violently nodding.

Jay just throws his arms around his brother. "Yes, sirree!" He hollers in Will’s ear.

“Go home!” I yell at them both. 

“You go home!” Kate says, her voice muffled. “Seriously, I need down, I’m gonna yartz.”

I finally put her on her feet and she staggers a little. “I used to be able to drink more than this.”

“I believe you.”

“I’m not sorry,” she says, and she turns to Will and roars, “Constant vigilance!”

Jay just smacks Will in the face. Will scrambles a little and smacks him back, turning it into a slap fight.

I turn to Hank. “I’ll let you deal with that.”

He sighs. " _ Halstead!"  _ He barks, and Jay straightens automatically. "Stand down."

"Yes, sir." He gives a look, then rams into him, bear hugging him like the classic little brother.

“You’re enablers. Both of you.”

Kate just blows a kiss at the Halsteads, and then plants a kiss on Hank’s cheek. 

“You’re my real dad.”

"Thanks, honey," he says with a grin. "Go home. You're drunk."

“I never said I wasn’t,” she says. I just pull her arm around my shoulders.

“C’mon.Let’s go.”

“Gonna feel like shit tomorrow!” She sings. 

“Don’t you usually feel like shit on March 18?”

“Yep!”

I start calling an Uber. Well, tapping away for an Uber. “Don’t you teach at 9 a.m.?”

“Yep!”

“Are you just gonna be like that Mariah Carey gif with the sunglasses?”

“Yep!”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

“You told Hank we were gonna have babies.”

“I did,” I say, trying to hold her back up. 

“I want that,” she says, nodding. For the first time all night, she gives me a serious look. It almost surprises me. 

“I know, babe, I know.”

“Hank’s my real dad,” she mutters under her breath. I just pull her into a hug. 

“I know, babe. I know.”


	44. I may never know what it must've cost (For him to love me that much)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley may be getting better, but that leaves Crockett to fend for himself. Mouse goes to check on his brother, and they have a well-deserved heart to heart about their significant others, the idea of children, getting past their trauma, and adopting each other.

_Hey, this is what brothers are for_

**March 22, 2020** **   
** **1943 Hours** **   
** **210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL** **   
** **Mouse **

I knock hard on the door to the Marcel-Marcks abode, and, hearing no noise, I unlock it with my key. 

“Yo, dude! It’s Mouse!” I call out. I know he had officially fallen ill after Kelley’s episode, but now that she is doing at least infinitesimally better, of course, he had to be sick. 

I’m not sending her into the war like that. Besides, Kate is still getting over hers, and I’m still relatively unscathed. 

But where the fuck is Crockett?

“Yo, brother, where art thou?”

There's a moan and a "stop," from the living room behind me. I’m glad it’s Crockett’s voice, because my hand was halfway to my pocket knife. 

“Dude, where the hell…”

"Living room… floor…" I hear him say. I come around, set down the shit I brought, and finally see him, sprawled out on the floor, thankfully, with a pillow. 

I sink down to my knees. 

“Uh, wanna tell me why you’re hangin’ out down here?”

"Head hurts too much to get to the bedroom," he whispers, eyes closed. "Figured I haven't shown the floor any love for a while, so here I am."

“C’mere, bud,” I mutter, and I sit down, lifting the pillow and his head so it's on my lap. “So. How you doin’?”

"How do you think I'm doing?" He chuckles quietly.

“Fair. When’s the last time you, you know, evacuated the premises?”

"Left the house?" He slurs, confused. "Been too tired."

“Since you puked, dude. Lord. I thought I couldn’t understand sarcasm.”

He opens his eyes, squinting before he closes them again. "What time is it?"

I check my watch. “Almost eight.”

"Hour and a half ago," he says quietly.

“Alright, alright, alright! Not doin’ half bad. This is doable. So uh, now what?”

"Not dying," he says, his hands over his eyes. "Sorry. Not the best company."

“I didn’t come over here for a drinkin’ buddy. Came over to check on you.”

"Oh," he murmurs, staying still. "Thank you." 

He chances opening his eyes again, staring up at me, but still unfocused. "Hey, man."

“Hey! Can I get you anything? Something to drink? Those gross crackers Kate can’t stop eating? A… bed, maybe?”

"If you wanna lug a bed out here, be my guest," he says under his breath. "Maybe," he says aloud.

“You trust me?” I say. 

"Always."

“Alright, we’re goin’ up,” I say, getting out from underneath him. “Not gonna be the most pleasant thing, but here we go.”

Damn. Either he’s doin’ less hot than I thought, or I’m doin’ better than I thought, because it is not hard to pick him up and head towards the bedroom.

His arms tighten around my neck, and he nuzzles his head into my shoulder. "Why, Mister Gerwitz, tryin' to get me into bed, are you?" He chuckles, but winces.

“One, that has been a fact since Kate and I decided you were my gay thing,” I say, setting him down on his bed. “Two, I would never take advantage of a sick man. There. Brought the bed to you.”

He laughs, closing his eyes. "You've been workin' out, or I've been slackin', that was easy for you, Gerwitz."

“Stop gettin’ yourself sick, and I wouldn’t have to prove my physical strength over you, Marcel.”

"I swear I don't try. Besides, compared to you and your wife, I'm a slacker."

I bring over a couple more pillows from the other side of the bed for him and bring up the blankets. “It’s kinda our job to be jacked, dude, you’re a surgeon. I would be more concerned about those delicate hands of yours.”

He snorts, and I can see the regret on his face for doing so.

"Maybe, man. Maybe."

I put my hands on my hips. “So. What can I do? How you doin’, now that you’re off the floor?” 

He inches over, a bit at a time. 

"Stay?"

“Hell yeah, dude,” I say, kicking off my boots and climbing up onto the bed beside him. 

"How you been?" He asks.

I chuckle. “Been… been good, up until everyone gettin’ sick. Man, you do not know what you started after Mardi Gras. It was… it was  _ buckwild,  _ Crockett.”

"Oh?"

“Couple weeks ago. Well, actually, after…” I drift. “You know, the shitty weekend for everyone? Jesus, man. Kate went  _ insane. _ ”

"She okay?" He says, trying to sit up.

“Yo, yo, no, lay back down,” I say, bringing a pillow up to meet him. “No, she’s fine! She’s fine. Well, yeah. After that weekend, wyew. We… I don’t know how we survived that many consecutive hours of fucking.”

_ "Really?"  _ He mutters. "I get to hear this? Seriously, Mouse?"

“You’re the one who got her all… dommed up or whatever at Mardi Gras!” I say. “This is your fuckin’ fault!”

He chuckles. "Hey, she explicitly asked me whether I was feelin' dom or sub, I told the truth, not my fault she got drunk off the power play."

I exhale heavily. “She got  _ real _ drunk off that power play, my dude. Holy shit. It was… a lot. There were restraints involved, and that damn corset…” I find myself drifting.

He laughs again. "Did she do the hand on the throat thing?"

“I’m sorry, what?” 

"When she and I were dancin', gettin' ready to approach the slimeball during our con, I may or may not have… slipped my hand on her neck, and she seemed to like it. She did it to me too during the con. She liked it a hell of a lot, said I should tell you about it," he says with a snicker.

“Why the hell didn’t you?” I sputter. “She… she did it to me first, and dude, dude. Didn’t know I was into  _ that _ . So I did it to her and she practically turned to… to putty. I don’t know. She’s always been the one in charge, but as soon as I used my work voice and put a hand on her throat and a hand—” I stop myself before I give away too many details. “For once,  _ she _ was askin’ for it instead of the other way ‘round.”

He shakes his head, laughing. "Hell, with the work voice and the hand on the throat, you'd get  _ me  _ askin' for it, Mouse. But man, I'm glad you two had fun."

“Wasn’t just fun,” I mutter. “Not to get even more blue, but you know that bet we had at the gala?”

He sighs. "You got started on it." It's not a question. 

“How… did Kate?”

He taps the side of his head, wincing. "Eleven years of school made me dumb, but not  _ that  _ dumb."

“Well, we are in full speed ahead on that front. Dude, I am terrified. Fuckin’ terrified.”

"You'll be great," he says softly.

“It’s that, it’s… I’m… I’m terrified it’s gonna change us. I mean, what if we… what if we become different people? What if this all goes to Hell? We’ve both been through Hell, together and apart, and I just don’t know. I don’t know if it’s gonna change our relationship.”

"Hey," he says, sitting up a bit. "You two run deep, and this ain't gonna change that."

“I… I know that,” I say, and I find myself absentmindedly spinning my wedding ring again. “What if we like it better when it was just us?” I ask quietly.

"You won't."

“How do you know?”

"I just know," he whispers, his hand slipping into mine. Good enough for me.

“You really think we can do this?” I ask, not looking at him. “My dad died when I was fifteen. He was barely there to begin with, he was workin’ so much. I don’t think I can be a dad. I don’t have a… what makes me think I could do this?”

"Hey, Greg," he says softly. "Firstly, listen. His shortcomings as a dad aren't your fault. And you're a good man. They won't affect your ability to be a dad, and a hell of a great one. Second, look at Kelley. Look at what you and Kate did for her. That more than proves my point that you'll be a hell of a great dad."

“Oh. Oh. Oh, well. Okay. Good. G-good. Crockett, it’s gonna be buckwild. I’m gonna need you. There’s gonna be questions. There’s gonna be… I mean, she’s got her shit all sorted out at Gaffney, but I trust you. She’s got her OB-GYN but honest to God, I’m gonna want you around.”

He chuckles. "I'll be here. Always. Hell, if you want me on the team, I'm there in a heartbeat, Mouse. You know that."

“Oh, assume that. Assume that you’re on the team. Just. Yeah. Assume it. She’s gonna want you there. Trust me.” And then, the realization hits me, and I feel tears welling. 

"Mouse? Hey, hey, talk to me."

“Dude. I want you there. I just… could you  _ imagine _ ?” I’m nearly hysterical by this point. “Our kid? ‘Uncle Crockett brought you into this world, and he can take you out!’” I’m crying, I’m laughing, and I can’t stop.

"You're losing your mind," he mutters, but he's laughing too. 

“She’ll want it too,” I say. “She’ll want you. I don’t care if you’re trauma surgery. She’ll want you.”

"Thank you," he murmurs. "Thanks."

\--------------

**Crockett **

Well, that was unexpected, and I'm still wondering if Mouse is losing his mind.

I just know mine is trying to kill me.

I take a moment to breathe, then open my eyes again. God, Kate and Mouse's kid. God help us all.

“Hey, uh, speaking of kids, Kate told me you met Raelynn’s.”

I blink. "Uh… yeah. Yeah I did."

“I need details. How did it go? What is she like?”

"She's… she's amazing. Evie. She's just like her mother," I feel myself smiling. "Had a great time. She basically gave her blessing for me to date Rae."

“What? She’s  _ seven,  _ right? What did you even talk about? Lord, I know nothing about children.”

"She asked me questions about work, we talked about school, she loves to read, Mouse, reads almost anythin', God, I love this girl. I'd do anything for both of them."

Mouse kind of looks surprised for a moment, and then he chuckles. “You’re in danger,” he says in a sing song voice.

"Oh yeah, I am," I say. "She's seven, and she looks like Rae, with the brown hair, and… and the brown eyes.. " I trail off, and my cheeks are wet before I know what's happening.

“Woah, man, you good? Talk to me. We gotta stop gettin’ into these situations, yeah?”

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." I smile at him. 

Except for the absolute nightmare in my head. It stabs me again, and I lay my head on Mouse's chest. 

“You’re fallin’ for her, aren’t you?” Mouse says, his voice a whisper. 

"Yeah, I am," I admit. "It's too soon… I shouldn't rush. I… I am."

“Twenty-four,” Mouse says, matter-of-factly. “Twenty-four. That’s how many days it took for me to realize I loved Kate. Now, when did you meet Evie?”

“March 13,” I say. 

Mouse looks at the ceiling, then starts to count on his hands. 

“Twenty-seven. The days between when you met—the gala—and when you met Evie. I know you’re a science man, I know you’re a numbers man. I’m just presentin’ the facts.”

"I love both of them… I can't imagine not having both of them around," I say softly.

“You’re happier,” he says. He’s on a high horse now, and there’s no getting him down.

"I love them," I say again. 

“Feels good, don’t it?”

"Yeah, it does," I whisper, laying my head back on his chest. God, he's warm. 

I'm so cold, but there's warmth around me.

"Mouse?"

“Yeah, buddy?”

"You're warm."

“Hot box,” he mutters. “How’s your head? Exhibitin’ all your signs of a migraine, brother.”

"Damn migraines," I say. "Hate them."

“Can I get you anything? What can I do?”

"Just…" I lean into him. "Stay with me," I breathe. 

He does, and he brushes my hair back. For a while, we just sit there in silence, until, of course, Mouse breaks it.

“Are we weird?”

"What?"

“It’s a Sunday night, I’m in my buddy’s bed, strokin’ his hair, and that’s not a euphemism,” he says. “You and I. Are we too close?”

I'm lost. 

"Do you think we are?"

“I don’t,” he says. It’s quick, but it’s not too quick. “Some people might think it’s weird, that’s all.”

I try and sit up far enough to look at him. "I've never really had a brother this close. Not even near," I say, squinting at him.

“Only child,” he says. “Same as Kate, actually.” He starts to drift a little. “Yeah, even my units were never this close. I just didn’t know if you thought it was weird. Kate doesn’t. I think she likes it. Not in a weird way. I know we joke about threesomes and shit. There’s only a little part of me that actually would. Little? Maybe a bit more than a little. But nah. I think it’s healthier than all that toxic shit.”

I blink. The sheer number of words that just came out of his mouth sort of blindsides me.

"Mouse, I was the oldest. My brothers were younger and I had to pick them up in the middle of the night from drug dens and try and get them clean. We were never this close," I sigh. "Havin' you here means so much."

But he looks distracted, tapping his fingers against his leg. “Crockett, you said somethin’ at the hospital. When Kel was there. About the nightmares.”

I stiffen, and then I remember. I'm safe, it's Mouse. I force myself to breathe out the tension. "What about them?"

“What are you seein’.” It’s a question, phrased more as a statement.

I sigh. "Sometimes it's the night after Katrina. Sometimes where I'm trying to keep the asshole from shootin' Manning, sure, I can't stand her but she has a child. No child should have to lose a parent that young." I take a breath. "Sometimes, like… like this morning, or even just before you showed up, I'm tryin' to save the guy, and I'm bleeding out on the floor, but I see Kate, and she's… I have to save her, but I'm dying faster than I can help." 

I take a breath again, letting it out shakily.

“You gotta get this shit out,” He says simply. “You don’t talk about it, you’re not gonna get past it.”

"It's fine," I say. "If I don't sleep, I don't see them. Simple as that."

“Ain’t no way to live, brother. You can’t function like that. You gotta talk ‘em out. Only way to get through.”

"Done it before," I say, a little sharply. "Done it before, Mouse."

“Then apparently, whatever you’re doin’ isn’t workin’,” he snaps back. “The hell did I tell you after your hurricane metaphor?”

"The lifeboat." 

“Not only do you gotta find your lifeboat, but you gotta  _ trust  _ the lifeboat. You can’t pretend to cling onto something. It’ll slip from your fingers. You gotta go all in. If you don’t trust it, you’re never gonna lose these nightmares. Trust me. I know from experience.”

I nod. "Okay. Okay," I say quietly. "I trust you."

“I got you, brother, alright? But you gotta remember that sometimes. You’re not alone. Even when you think you are.”

"How can I be alone when I have you?"

Mouse chuckles. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, and then his smile fades a little, like he’s lost in thought. 

"Hey, stop that. Stay here, don't go runnin' off without me," I say, snuggling closer.

“What? No. I’m fine. I was just…” He sighs, holding me. “I’m glad my kid’ll have someone like Uncle Crockett to look up to, that’s all.”

I feel the tears burn my eyes, but I'm okay. More okay than in a while. Haven't heard that for a long time, but… but I welcome it. "I'm glad I can be here," I whisper. "So glad."

“Me too, brother. Me too.”


	45. I played it cool when I was scared of letting go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy takes Kelley on a date spawned by ideas from his new friends, Gallo and Ritter. But things get a little too deep over a deep dish, and Tommy starts voicing some thoughts he’s had for a while. Luckily, Kelley’s had them too.

_ I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old _

**March 27, 2020** **  
** **1508 Hours** **  
** **First Ascent Block 37, Chicago ** **  
** **Raz**

“Okay, okay, you can open your eyes now,” I say, holding her shoulders and gently guiding her through the door. 

I hope she loves it. God, I hope she loves it. But when I texted Blake and Darren, they said she likes to climb up walls of buildings, so I hope she loves it.

I hope I don’t fall. Please, don’t let me fall in front of her.

"Tommy, oh my God!" She claps her hands, spinning to me, beaming. "Yes!" She spins again, then drops a kiss on my nose. "Oh, hell yeah!"

Oh. Maybe they were right. Not that I didn’t trust them, but sure. Yeah. Trust them.

It’s just so _ weird _, having a text group with those two. Not that I’m complaining. It’s nice.

“So, uh, Blake told me you guys like climbing, so.”

She's bouncing in a circle, grinning. "I need to climb, it's in my blood! Tommy, you beautiful, beautiful sweetheart of a man, you know how to please a girl." She takes my hands, trying to twirl me around.

Oh? Oh. That’s new. That’s a new thought. Didn’t… didn’t think that was going to be a thing. Maybe it will be a thing? Don’t think about that right now. Focus. God, she’s so pretty. 

“So, have you… have you done anything like this before?”

She gazes upwards, still giggling. "I used to have my belay certificate back in my hometown, but it's been at least five, maybe six years since I've done this."

“Oh, nice!” I say nervously. “I’ve done it about… twice. I’m gonna need shoes and chalk, though,” I say, glancing around to get checked in. “What size do you need?”

"Nine," she drawls out, winking at me. 

I go to get us checked in, and it gives me a second to breathe. I glance back over to Kelley. She’s practically bouncing, watching other climbers start their ascents. She’s already ready to go. I’m glad I didn’t tell her where we were going. She looks… gleeful. She looks so happy.

I hope she’s happy. I know I am. 

I get our shoes and chalk and head back over to her. “Alright, where do you want to start?”

She points to the medium wall. "There!"

Okay, that’s fair. I walked into that. But she’s so cute in her CFD t-shirt. I can’t get distracted, think about the wall. Think about climbing the wall with your girlfriend, Tom.

Wait, yeah. Girlfriend. She made that very clear after the hockey game.

Girlfriend. Should try saying it out loud, but I don’t want to get any weird looks.

Kelley’s already a third of the way up the wall. Shit.

She pauses, looking down to me, smiling. "C'mon, honey, the rocks are great!"

I let out a heavy breath. I don’t know if I can keep up with her. But I’m gonna damn well try. 

I start my way up, hand over hand. Yeah, this is fine. This is fine. I look up. Oh, that’s a nice view.

She swings, then catches another handhold, hugging the wall. Oh. Oh, damn. Blake wasn’t kidding. 

“What are you, a spider monkey?” I call up to her, chuckling.

"Yes, sir!" She giggles, smiling down to me. God, that smile. I love that smile. It makes my heart hurt. I’m glad she’s feeling better, though. The last couple days have been… well, I can’t say I don’t love it. I’m sad Dr. Marcel has been sick, and I’m glad he’s getting better, but it’s nice having her around. 

I’m slacking. I better catch up. 

"Tommy, pick up the pace, baby!" She wiggles up, laughing the whole time. 

I skip a handhold, and I know I shouldn’t, but with a bit of a swing, I get myself up there. I hear her giggling still, and I see her waiting at the top.

"Hey, gorgeous," she says with a wink. "Fancy meeting you here."

“Not fair. You got a head start.”

"I'm smaller," she shrugs.

“You know what you’re doing, though!”

"Never. I just fake it!" She giggles, swinging down and catching a hold, and she pauses, just smiling up at me. Just looking and smiling.

“Coulda fooled me,” I say, hanging on as she sidles down next to me. “So, you like this place?”

She nods. "But I like it more with you here."

She gets to the bottom third, and then starts giggling crazily. 

"Tom, watch!"

I stop my descent and pause. She’s so weird. 

She might be just as weird as me.

She brings her feet up, and then pushes herself off the wall, plunging the last bit and rolling, and then smiles up at me from where she's sprawled on the mat. "How'd I look?"

“Like a badass!” I call back.

She gives me a thumbs up, watching me come down. I jump down like a normal person, then scrunch my face at her.

“How’d _ I _ look?”

She nods seriously. "Very good. Very well done. May have been a bit focused on your ass but yes. Good."

“Oh, I was staring at your ass too,” I say. Wait. Shit. That’s not something normal people admit. Why is she laughing so hard?

She nods happily. "So glad we're on the same page. It's a hot ass."

“Yours is hotter. Definitely,” I say, crossing my arms.

"Nope, definitely yours."

“There’s no fighting with you. You’ll just keep trying to tell me my ass is hotter, and we’ll get into a circle and we’ll never get out. Race you to the top?”

"Oh hell, yeah. First one to get it up, um…" she pauses. "Tickles the other!"

Oh, shit, I’m super ticklish. 

\------

“How have you lived here for… how many years? Without getting deep dish pizza. That’s a food crime,” I say. “A food crime.”

She shrugs. "I lived for a year on instant noodles, Gatorade, and canned icing. Didn't have a ton of money for a while, wanted to spend as little as possible. Only been here two and a half years, honey."

I tap my fingers against the table. God, I’m hungry. All that climbing and staring at her worked me up an appetite. But she doesn’t look tired at all. She looks… she looks happy. I hope she’s happy. Man, I hope she’s happy.

“Well, I’m gonna introduce you to my friend, the deep dish pizza. Hey, what brought you to Chicago, anyway? Not that I’m complaining. Definitely not complaining.”

She shrugs again. "Needed a change, something drastic, put my application into the Academy here, always heard good things. Moved here and never looked back."

“What about your family, though? I mean, there were seven of us, sure, but I wouldn’t be able to leave.”

"Parents died in a car crash three years ago," she says quietly. "I was the only one out." She reaches for my hand almost absentmindedly. 

“Oh. Oh,” I murmur, taking her hand in mine. I may not have been good in math class, but I can piece it together. Three years ago, two and a half years in Chicago. I just rub my thumb over her hand. “Sorry…. sorry I asked. Shouldn’t have.”

She looks up to me. "It's okay," she whispers, smiling at me. "I've made my peace."

“Shouldn’t have to,” I say. “Did you… did you always want to be a firefighter?”

"Always. Was my first choice until an injury and I had to wait a few years."

“An injury? What happened?”

"Dislocated my knee playing volleyball," she sighs. "Of all stupid things."

“Broke my ankle once playin’ pond hockey. You know about some of my other injuries.”

She looks at me, and she sighs. "We're a good pair, honey," she murmurs, kissing the back of my hand.

“What, for our ability to just get wrecked at any waking moment?” I say. “Dr. Marcel is right. We both need to probably take a chill pill.”

She giggles. "I personally wouldn't mind getting wrecked any waking moment," she mutters under her breath, looking around. 

I feel the blush on my cheeks. “So. So, uh, what do you… what do you most like about Chicago?”

"I have a family again," she says simply. "I have a family, and a boyfriend. Who I adore."

“If we’re… you know, boyfriend, girlfriend, we should probably know when… when that started, right? For future reference.”

"Only if you want it," she says, and she looks… scared.

“Want…. want what? I just… I don’t know when our anniversary is!”

"Do you… want to be… to be together? That's the more important question."

“I kinda thought we were?” I feel my heartbeat in my throat. 

She relaxes. "As long as we're on the same page," she says. "I want to be. I just needed to be sure you wanted it… wanted me."

I let out a laugh. Actually, Kelley gives me a look. 

“I wanted to be sure you wanted me!”

"I always do," she whispers, smiling at me, her eyes lit up. She touches a hand to my cheek, just watching me.

“You ever think we’re too… I don’t know. We shouldn’t….. we shouldn’t have to have conversations like this. About… about wanting each other. It’s not normal. Right?”

She pouts. "I don't know, I'm oblivious half the time. I don't know what to say or do a lot of the time."

“_ You _ don’t? I’m screwed then,” I chuckle. “But yeah. Anniversary. Uh, what… what is it?”

"Is it New Years, or is it the day I came to visit you at your apartment?"

“February 16 or December 31,” I mutter. “Both are good. I don’t know. Uh, what do you think?”

"Anniversary of first kiss or first date?" She's frustrated. "I don't know either. It's complicated."

I think on it for a second. “January 22.”

"Why then?" She looks curious, still rubbing my hand.

“That’s the day we met,” I say. “January 22, 2019.”

Her eyes water, and she nods. "Yeah. Yeah that. I want that." She tries to inch closer, gripping my hand. "That's good."

“The day Mouse and Kate got engaged,” I say, gripping her hand too. “You were wearing this really cute white off the shoulder sweater. I think you stole it from…. Stella? I don’t know. We all had our green Cavanagh shirts on. You gave me a beer on the house, as long as I didn’t tell Herrmann. And I never told.”

"You were adorable," she says. "I couldn't resist. How could I not give you a drink?" She's smiling at me.

“Me? Adorable? Nah, I was gross. We just won the tournament. Gross and half drunk and so damn happy for Kate.”

"Adorable," she decides. "You looked so happy, and… so beautiful. And sweaty."

I just remember that night. It makes me smile. “You, uh, you asked me why I was hanging out at the bar instead of with the team and I just wanted to talk to you.”

"To… to me?" She says, her voice low, and her eyes are huge.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen!” Oh. Oh no. “I’ve… I've said too much. Sorry. I do that.”

"Tommy," she whispers. "Do you really think that?"

“I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it, Kelley.”

She moves enough so that she can nuzzle under my arm, reaching up to kiss my cheek. "You're the best man I've ever met, honey. I mean that."

I blush. It gets bad around Kelley. I feel the heat in my cheeks, and suddenly I’m thankful for the distraction of the pizza’s arrival. 

“Awww, _ yes _,” I mutter. “So hungry.”

She giggles. "Finally. Now I can be educated on proper cuisine," she says, winking at me.

“Now, I would suggest, being a newbie, using a fork,” I say, wielding mine. “Otherwise, you’re gonna have all sorts of mess.”

"Excuse you, Thomas, _ I _am all sorts of mess," she says snootily, then giggles.

“You’re _ my _mess.”

———

“Good choice,” I say, leaning on the fence of Navy Pier. “Don’t always go for the nutty stuff, but I like this butter pecan.”

She giggles. "You pretty much went for the nutty stuff when you picked me, honey."

“You’re definitely the nutty stuff,” I say. “Okay. Favorite color.”

"What, we're doing grade school Twenty Questions?"

“Answer the question, Marcks. I gotta know.”

She snorts. "Blue-green."

“Favorite animal.”

"After you tell me your favourite colour, Razmuffin."

“Razmuffin?” I snort ice cream, and then laugh at myself. “That’s a new one, and I’ve had a lot of weird names. Uh, blue. Definitely blue. But light blue, like the Chicago flag.”

She giggles. "Good choice. Okay, definitely dogs. You?"

“Oooo! What kind of dog?”

"Any dog," she says, her eyes going dreamy. "Topo is my new favorite. I also like labs."

“Found him on a job,” I say. “Weird lookin’ dog. Love him! Uhhhh, mine would be… probably a sloth.”

She laughs then, wrapping her arm through mine. "I'll be your sloth."

“How about….. sports? Other than hockey.”

"Volleyball. And I like to go running. You?"

“Blackhawks and Cubs,” I say. “The usual. I know it… it might not be your thing, but we should go to a Cubs game sometime.”

She perks up. "Can we?" 

“You’d be into that?”

She nods, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, yes!" 

“Gonna have to get you a jersey. Hmm. Could just borrow one of mine.” I glance at her. “You’d look _ real _ nice in the dark blue throwback one. Yeah.”

"Can I? Oh Tommy, that'd be real sweet of you," she says softly.

I glance at her again. I feel the blush in my cheeks and try to get rid of the image of her in the jersey. Just the jersey. Gotta shut that down. Eat more ice cream, yeah. 

“Favorite…. favorite foods.”

"Orange Gatorade."

“That’s not…. Kelley, that’s not food.”

"It is too!!" She crosses her arms, glaring at me.

“It’s a drink. You need sustenance for your mortal form.” 

She shakes her head. "I lived off it. I think I turned out okay."

“You can’t… Kelley, you can’t live off orange Gatorade! You need food. I wanna make you dinner, and I can’t do that if I don’t know what you like.”

She blinks. "Literally anything you'd make would make me happy, Tommy."

“I like this. I like when things are simple.”

"Except for sunflower seeds. They don't make me happy. They make me dead," she says matter-of-factly.

“Bees,” I say, nodding. “It’s bees for me.”

"You have an Epi-Pen?" She asks, turning to look at me.

I reach into my jacket pocket to check. “Yep! I’m good.”

She nods. "Good. Glad to know one of us is smart."

“Alright. Okay. Hmmmmm,” I say looking out across the lake. “Favorite music? TV? Movies?”

She bounces, humming. "_ Oceans _ trilogy. Macgyver. Can't stand Grey's Anatomy. Really like Flogging Molly, Daughtry, and country. What about you?"

“Oh! I love the _ Oceans _movies! Anything with heists, really. Heists are great. Love me a heist. I don’t get to watch a lot, but I love MacGyver! Been really into Deputy lately. Can’t stop watching Live PD and Live Rescue. Music? Uhh, a lot. Classic rock, mostly. The Beatles, Pink Floyd, some newer stuff like Radiohead. Tame Impala! David Bowie. The Black Keys. I’m ranting, sorry.”

She puts her hand on my cheek. "I love when you rant," she whispers.

“What? Oh. Oh good. Good,” I say, trying to breathe. Damn, where’s my Epipen? “Okay. So. To continue the… the whole ‘things we should know about each other’.... How about hobbies?”

"You first," she says, watching me.

“Huh? Me?” Um, okay. I can do this. “I really like local history. Anything to do with Chicago. I like to read. Mostly non-fiction. I like to draw. You’ve seen the map on my wall.”

"Tommy, it's gorgeous! It looks so cool, honey," she says. "I can't draw for shit."

I finish off my ice cream and sink the napkin in the nearest trash can. Yes. Made myself look cool. “Becky thinks it’s weird.”

"I don't," she says in a small voice.

“R-really? I guess…” I sigh. Wow. The skyline looks nice. Yeah. Focus on that.

She finishes her ice cream and leans her head on my arm, not speaking.

“You… I’ve always felt like I’ve been lost in the world. Not much of anything. You make me feel like I'm the most interesting guy in the world.”

She pulls me down to her and whispers, "You are," and then she kisses me. Oh. Well. Didn’t expect that. Wait, girlfriend. Yeah. I should probably start expecting it. I pull her closer to me, sliding my hand behind her neck. Don’t… don’t get too deep in those thoughts, Rasmussen. Don’t go there. Not yet. 

"Tommy?" She whispers.

“Hey, Kelley? I… I don’t want to make things weird. I don’t. I know we’ve… we’ve known each other for a year now, sure, and we’re on the team, and we’ve been together since, you know, like, January…” I trail.

"What is it, honey?" She says, her eyes glistening. 

For the first time in… well, probably my entire life, my mind is blank. There’s nothing racing. There’s no thoughts. Except one, like a damn neon sign, flashing and making my eyes hurt.

And it’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“I love you, Kelley.”

Her hands come up to cradle my cheeks and she starts laughing, and she looks… happy. "I love you, Thomas Rasmussen, oh thank God. I was… I was scared you wanted to break up," she admits, kissing me quickly.

“W-what?” I say, drawing away. “What? No! Never! I… honestly I keep wanting to say it, it keeps almost wanting to slip out, you know how I am. Shit just… yeah, I actually had time to think about this one and it feels right. It just…. yeah.”

"I have a confession," she whispers.

“I have severe anxiety, you can’t just hit me with that and stop, Kelley.”

"I almost said it earlier. During dinner. I… I almost said it before, too."

“What? What?! When?”

She looks nervous. "You sure you want to know?"

“Yes, I do! I wanna know what I did so I can replicate it!”

"You'll laugh.”

“If it’s funny, but never at your expense.”

She pulls me close, her head on my chest. "I knew I liked you at the wedding. I knew I loved you the night you showed up in the ED. I almost said it then. I almost said it when we were sitting on your couch the first time I came over," she whispers.

“I don’t remember much from the ED. But yeah. The night you came over. Yeah. That…. that was nice.”

"Tommy?"

“Yeah, Kelley?”

She looks me in the eye, just smiling. 

"I love you."

“I love you. I love you,” I say, excited. It’s like a new word in my mouth. But it’s a genuine one. And it’s an exciting one. 

"This is new, and I like it, can we keep this?" Kelley whispers.

“Hell yes! Yes. Absolutely. Forever.”


	46. I'd stop the world if it gave us time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie’s birthday party is a veritable battlefield, especially when she makes the realization none of the crew has: that they’ve missed Crockett’s birthday. But, with General Evie at the helm, she gets the crew planning a dinner for the man she’s come to adore just as much as her mother, with a surprising gift tucked just in her pocket.

_You open up your heart (You make room)_

**March 28, 2020** **  
** **1445 Hours** **  
** **Mad Science of Chicago**   
**Kelley**

Oh I'm ready. 

This kid sounds like an absolute dream, and Crockett's been so much happier lately. Between Raelynn and Evie, I honestly think he's in love. 

We're walking inside and jeez, I know it's meant for kids but I'm already excited. 

And I can see Raelynn and there's a little girl beside her and _ oh my God. _

I can see so much of Raelynn in Evie's face.

And Crockett lights up when he sees them. 

"Rae, Evie!" He calls, speeding up enough I almost have to jog to keep up.

Rae brushes her hair back with an exhausted face. “Oh, thank Christ. There are fifteen kids here, and I am incapable of handling them all. Kelley!”

"Sixteen kids," Crockett sighs, pointing at me. I smack his arm. 

"Hey, Raelynn," I smile.

And at the sound of my voice, Evie turns to me. 

“Kelley!”

I turn and I smile. "Hi, Evie!" 

Crockett steps beside Raelynn, kissing her cheek as I smile at Evie. 

She's honestly… She's adorable and I love her, and I totally see why Crockett loves her and her mom so much. 

And I think we're going to have fun.

She just runs into my legs as she hugs me. “Nice to meet you!” She says, slightly muffled against my leg.

I drop to my knees so I can hug her properly. 

"Nice to meet you too, kiddo!" 

I'd do anything for this child.

"Really glad I can finally meet you, Evie," I whisper in her ear. 

“Crockett says you sit on counters, too,” she whispers back.

"Yes, ma'am," I chuckle. "Crockett does it too. I taught him."

“Mama says there are _ indoor fireworks _ at the party today.” And then she looks past me. “Did you bring more friends?”

"I always bring friends, honey. Always."

“Evie, don’t—” Rae starts to say, but Evie shoots off like a rocket towards whoever just came in. When I look over my shoulder, I see Kate and Mouse. “Oh, thank God,” Rae finishes.

With a glance to both of them, Evie slips between them, separates their entwined hands, and grabs them with hers. 

“Mama, Crockett, Kelley,” she says in one breath. “Kate and Mouse are here!”

Kate gives me the widest-eyed look, then glances at Mouse. They share a long, long look. 

Crockett laughs, taking Raelynn's hand. I eye them, then turning to Kate, Mouse, and Evie. 

"How'd you know it was them, Ev?" I call.

“Because I knew they were coming,” she says matter-of-factly. “And mama said they would be attached at the hip.”

I laugh. "Raelynn, your kid's a genius." 

“She’s a know-it-all,” Raelynn says, walking up to us. Evie bails the Gerwitzes and runs over to attack Crockett. 

He grins, picking her up and swinging her onto his back. "Hey, darlin'," he says warmly. 

“I want one,” Kate hisses. “Mouse, I want one. Right now.”

He starts looking around. “Rae, where’s the bathroom—”

“This is a children’s museum,” she deadpans. 

Mouse opens his mouth, then shuts it, realizing he’s probably wrong. 

“Thank you all for coming,” Raelynn says. “I really appreciate you coming to help.”

Crockett's spinning Evie around before he stands still, whispering to her. 

I just smile at Raelynn. "Glad to help, always!"

“Excuse me!” The little voice of Evie calls out. She’s appeared next to Raelynn again. Rae just brushes her hair back and hugs her against her hip.

Crockett's just watching the two of them, and if I'm not mistaken, that's joy on his face and in his eyes. 

"What's up, kiddo?" I say.

In the tiniest voice, she looks to me and says, “Could I speak to you privately?”

Kate snorts laughing.

"Oh. Uhm. Yeah!" I reach down for her hand, and let her lead me. She takes me over to a different part of the room, where, apparently, we can speak in private.

“Crockett just told me his birthday was March eighth,” she says. 

I freeze, then glance over to where Crockett has his arm around Raelynn. 

"Uh oh," I say quietly. "I think… I think I forgot, in all of the mess and all of us being so busy."

Evie looks at me with her big brown eyes and very defiantly says, “I want to throw him a birthday party.”

I nod. "I think that's a great idea, only…" I trail off.

“Does he not like birthday parties?” She asks in a small voice.

I smile at her and pull her close. "Usually he likes the quiet, but if it's from you, I think he'll love it."

“It doesn’t have to be _ big _,” she whispers. “It can be just us, right?”

"That sounds like a good idea. Maybe after your party we should start planning it."

“We should do it _ now! _” She says excitedly. “We should do it after! Two parties in one day!”

"Are you sure?" I'm chuckling.

“I can distract mama with the rockets, you and Kate and Mouse can plan the party, okay?”

My eyebrows go up. "Then I need to know what you think now."

“I don’t know!” She whispers. “Everyone likes food?”

"Food. Okay. We can do that. Anything else I need to do?" I feel like I'm getting my marching orders from a five-star general.

“Evie—” Raelynn calls. “Do you want to see this rocket demo, or…?”

Evie looks at me with wide eyes. “I need these rockets, okay? And he needs a cake. Or… or something. Okay?”

"Got it." I give her a little salute. "Go! I'll take care of the rest."

She runs off, grabbing Raelynn’s hand, to what I assume is the rocket demo. 

“The hell was that?” Kate says, eating… something. Where the hell did she find a food table?

I whirl around and stare at Kate, and I'm scratching my head. "We need to plan a party!" I tell her urgently.

“I’m sorry, we’re at a party…?” She says. “What party do we need to plan?”

"Crockett's!" I hiss, and I'm half frantic. I shouldn't be.

“Oh, _ fuck,” _ Kate says, a little too loud for a children’s birthday party. “Hold up. Let me get Mouse. This is his jam. Yo, Mouse!”

He comes back with a plate of snack foods. Where are these Gerwitzes finding snacks? 

With his mouthful, he says, “What’s up?”

“We never planned a party for Crockett’s birthday,” she sighs, holding her hand to her head. 

“Oh, shit. Okay, I got this. Party planning’s my shit. Why?”

I nod seriously. "Because the child just told me to plan Crockett a party, and when she tells you to do something, you _ do it! _"

* * *

As the kids start to filter out, and the particularly pleased eight-year-old rushes up to me, her face concerned. 

“So? Did you… do you have a plan?”

"Yes, ma'am," I say. "We found a place for food. Pizza, to be exact."

“Love pizza,” she says under her breath. “Have you said anything to mama?”

"Not yet, kiddo. Crockett's been pretty near her the entire time and I didn't want to tip him off too soon."

She turns around, and glances at the two of them. She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “I’ve got him. You take my mama.”

And she trots herself over to Crockett.

He turns to her, eyes shining. 

I take the moment to pull Raelynn aside. 

"Hey, so, your daughter just pointed out to me that your boyfriend, my brother, his birthday passed and we didn't do anything-" I realize I'm rambling and take a breath. "We have a place for food, because she demanded that we give him a party. Thoughts?"

Raelynn pales. “What? He never said anything! Why the hell did he not say anything?!” She starts to pace. “Oh, Lord. I don’t have anything for him. What do I do?”

"Hey, chill. Chill, Raelynn. First, right now I'm pretty sure his present is you and your daughter. Second, everyone got busy, so that's why I'm pretty sure he didn't say anything. He's sort of a quiet person. Third, Roots Handmade Pizza, West Town. Thoughts?"

She seems to process it all, and eventually lands on not the detail I expect. 

“This was… _ Evie’ _s idea?”

I nod. 

She looks over my shoulder. Crockett grasps onto Evie as she demonstrates how the rocket worked, her eyes wide. He looks absolutely riveted by her story.

“That… that’s perfect. Whatever you thought up, it’ll be perfect.”

"Okay, great. This is good. I sent Mouse to go find a cake. This is… yeah. This will work," I mutter under my breath.

Rae just peers at me, her previously wringing hands in front of her, a slight smile on her face.

“You all just… sort of come in and make everything fantastic, don’t you?”

"Listen. Kate and Mouse and 'Kett do. I'm the one who fu-_ screws _stuff up and balances it all out," I grin, giving her my best finger guns.

“Oh, Kelley,” she says. “We both know that’s not true.”

And Evie runs into her legs once more. “Are we ready to go?” She asks, looking at both me and her mom with wide, expectant eyes.

"I'm ready, if you all are," I say, checking my phone. 

_ Mouse: Got it. Meet you there. _

"I'm ready if you are," I say again, winking at Evie. She just grabs for Crockett’s hand and starts guiding him towards the car. 

Kate stops eating the leftovers Rae had given her and collects me; we all pile into Raelynn’s SUV, much to Crockett’s confusion.

"What's goin' on? Everythin' okay?" He says, looking over to Raelynn.

She chuckles, and then says, “why don’t you ask my daughter?”

"Evie?" He says, turning to her. 

“I’m not at liberty to say,” she says, looking out the window.

“That’s it. I’m limiting your television,” Rae mutters.

Crockett chuckles. "Evie," he says again, trying to wheedle it out of her. She crosses her arms over her chest, but she looks like she just might break.

He tries again with a smile, but I hit his arm. "Leave the girl her secret, CJ. Seriously."

I wink at Evie. She tries to wink back, but she really just does an exaggerated blink. 

“Oh, look, we’re here!” She says with a smile. 

I hop out when Raelynn parks, opening the door for Evie. "Here you go, milady!"

She gets out, but she waits for Crockett. 

He gets out, looking around, a bit confused, but he stretches out his hand to the girl. The action is so fluid, like he’s used to it, as she takes his hand and starts leading him into the restaurant. 

“Crockett,” She says almost accusingly, “You never told me we have the same birthday month.”

His eyes go wide, almost like the surprised faces in cartoons, and Mouse snickers from where he stands just inside the door. 

"Evie," Crockett says, getting on his knee so he can look her in the eye. "Did you…" he's speechless, and I have to grab Kate as I laugh so I don't fall over.

She just smiles. “Kelley and Mouse and Kate helped,” she says, grabbing for his hand again and leading him to a table.

He pulls out a chair for her, bowing low, and he looks so happy, it… I feel better knowing how happy he is. 

“I have something for you,” she stage-whispers to Crockett. 

"Oh?" He asks, turning to look her intently in the eye, still smiling. Even Rae looks confused. 

From the pocket of her little jacket, she pulls out something in her hands. “It’s not wrapped because you didn’t _ tell me _,” she says accusingly. “So close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Confused, but obediently, he shuts his eyes, hands out. I can see, with a flourish, something silver on a definitely handmade, black, gold, and white lanyard.

“You can open.”

He blinks, staring at it, and then he smiles, more relaxed, more joyful than I've seen in a long time. His eyes are welling up, and he has to wipe them before he turns to Evie, pulling her into his arms. 

"Thank you, darlin'," I hear him say. "Thank you. You absolute sweetie."

Rae leans over to me and whispers, “I wasn’t planning on making that so public, you know. Evie has a way of making everything…” she sighs, when she realizes what she’s saying. “She has a way of making everything so, so meaningful.”

"She does," I say, watching the two. 

Crockett's holding Evie, his chin in her hair as he hugs her, almost rocking her a bit, eyes closed. 

I can still hear him. "Thank you, darlin'. Evie, thank you."

“Crockett?” Her little voice says. 

"Yeah, honey?" 

“Can we always celebrate our birthdays together?”

He chuckles softly. "Gladly, if it's what you want, Evie."

For the rest of the dinner, Evie refuses to leave Crockett’s lap.


	47. Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mouse and Kate have done what they previously thought was unachievable—they’ve bought a house. And after the move in party has completed their work, Kate and Crockett have a brief moment as Kate tries to consider how they even got that far in the first place, and then reminds Kelley and the Halsteads that their children will never become like their role models. Crockett, on the other hand, learns quickly the state of his own relationship, and shares the last truth he held deeply in his heart, with a different conclusion than he ever anticipated.

**Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind**

_ Capable of more than we know, we call this fixer upper home _

**April 4, 2020** **  
** **1702 Hours** **  
** **2419 W. Gladys Ave., Chicago** **  
** **Kate**

It shouldn’t be as shocking to me as it is. 

After months of looking and finally closing, this is it. This is our _ house. _ It’s not perfect. It needs a fresh coat of paint everywhere, sure. And we need some more furniture, we’ve realized, to fill up this space. It’s looking a bit sparse. 

But it’s a _ house. _ It’s in a good neighborhood, with good schools, relatively close to UIC and Gaffney and everyone. 

I’m glad everyone is here, sure, but I just needed a moment to myself upstairs. I guess I’m already shocked. I didn’t expect it to be done so quickly. Even our photos are hung, nailed into the walls with permanence. Will’s alphabetized my books in my shelf. 

I look around the rooms upstairs, all put together, and I realize I don’t care how they arranged it. It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. These friends, these family, dropping everything to help Mouse and I settle into our home.

I never expected to come back. I never thought I had anything to come back to. And look at it now. Look at us now. 

"Katie Kat?"

I realize suddenly I’m crying. I look to the doorway and see Crockett, leaning against the doorframe. 

"Talk to me, darlin'," he says softly.

I can’t speak. I’m standing in an empty bedroom, sobbing, my hand over my mouth because I don’t want to be loud. I can’t. 

“Crockett, this is real.”

"Oh, baby," he whispers, coming closer and wrapping his arms around me. "Yeah, it's real, darlin'. It's real. It's happenin'."

“Crockett,” I whisper into his shoulder. “If all goes well, if God thinks we’re capable of this shit, this… this is a kid’s room. This is a bedroom for a child. I… I…” I can’t stop sobbing.

He's holding me, his hand rubbing my back. "Katie, it's all workin' out. All of it." He's just holding me, warm and gentle.

“I can’t help thinking… thinking like every day is one we should have never had. We have a house, ‘Kett. I know I’ve been through this and through this but it’s just like… I get hit with it like... “ I just sigh against him.

"Just keep takin' the days as you get them, darlin'," he whispers, his hand still rubbing my back. "Be thankful for every one. Look at where you are now.”

“I know, I know. I know,” I repeat. “I am thankful. It’s just every day I wake up, I’m… I’m surprised. Not… I’m surprised at where we are. I’m going to be a _ doctor _. And hopefully a mom.” I sigh, and then pull him out by his shoulders to face him. “Listen. I have…. A possibly awkward request.”

He just gazes at me with a small smile. "Anythin', darlin'."

“If.... when we get pregnant, I need you there. I’m going to murder anyone who is not you.”

He chuckles. "I will be here, every step if that's what you want, Kate."

“I don’t think you understand,” I begin. “I _ need _ you there. I will tell you to leave, and I need you to ignore me, okay? I need you. You’re the only one I can trust to help me through this.”

He brushes back my hair, that gentle smile. "I'm here. No matter what. You could tell me off, I'll stay."

“Good. I’m glad we had this talk,” I say wiping the tears from my face. “Thanks for helping us move in.”

"Always," he says, pulling me close one more time. "You got this, darlin'," he whispers, kissing my forehead.

I hear screeching from downstairs. 

“Dude, yo! Dude! You missed the fucking turn again!”

I hear Jay’s adamant yelling, with Mouse’s ‘no, no, no, no’ and then the sound of a video game car crashing against something it probably shouldn’t have been crashing against.

I sigh. 

Crockett's chuckle echoes through me where my head rests on his chest, and finally he steps back. "We should probably go rescue whoever needs rescuing," he says.

“Just one more moment of peace, okay?”

I breathe deeply, and exhale.

And then I hear video game sirens, and cackling laughter. 

Crockett hums once. "I'm proud of you, Kate. You… you've gotta know that. And I wish I was here sooner."

“But I’m glad you’re here _ now. _”

"So am I," he whispers. "Shall we?" 

From downstairs, I hear, “holy shit, dude! Yeah! Hell yeah!” from Mouse and I start laughing.

“Yeah, we probably should. I don’t want to know what’s going on down there.”

He extends his hand to me. "Milady," he says with a bow.

“Oh, shut up,” I say, laughing, taking his hand as we head downstairs. 

And it’s chaos. I can’t find Kelley at first, but I see the boys: Will, Jay, and Mouse are all in various locations near the television; Will sits like a normal human on the armchair, Jay is on the floor in front of the couch, while Mouse sits on one side. 

Raz has the controls, and his face is… determined. Stoic. The calmest I’ve ever seen the kid. 

“What the hell is—”

Mouse waves me off, and I see what’s happening. They’re playing Grand Theft Auto again, and the in-game sirens are blazing, and Raz is currently trying to escape a five star wanted level with deadly accuracy.

I sigh, and I just shake my head at Crockett.

He smiles, then sighs. "This is your life now, Katie Kat."

“You know what? I wouldn’t trade it for anything,” I say. 

He smiles, his arm going around me once more. "Take each day as you get them, Kate," he echoes his own words from earlier. "And be thankful for each one."

“I am. Trust me,” I say, hugging him back. “Lord, I better feed you guys, right?” 

He winces as there's a small thud and muffled swearing. "Yeah, maybe just… take that task over from Kelley, I'm not sure if I trust her," he jokes. 

“I would pay actual money to see you play GTA,” I say, pointing at the television as I head to the kitchen. “Let me know when you get goin’ and I’ll come see. If the boys will let you play.”

He chuckles, perching himself on the arm of the couch. 

God, I don’t know what I would do without that man. 

I head into the kitchen, our kitchen, still with boxes piled inside, and Kelley, looking more and more stressed.

“Uh, need some help, there?”

"Yes!" 

She's glaring at the counter. "I don't know what to feed you all."

“Oh, I got it,” I say. “Where’s the box of pots and pans?” I start looking, and then I find it, on the other side of the kitchen. I find the biggest one and I fill it with water. 

“Did you guys load the pantry already?”

"Uh…." She blinks. "Mouse, did we load the pantry already?"

“Shit, what, hang on, yes! Check it? You’re in the kitchen, not me— _ fuck!” _

She giggles, then nods. "Yeah. We did."

“You like torturing my husband,” I say. “Find the noodles. It’s spaghetti time.”

I know I have some French bread somewhere. No breadsticks, sure, but it’ll work in a pinch. 

"Kate," she says, staring at the noodles. "Listen. I was helping Will sort your books. You've got like… forty-three books on the Middle East. Ever think…. Ever think you may have enough?"

“Never,” I say, hovering near the stove. “Don’t you dare insult my library. I…” I find myself drifting. “The first time… when I moved back into Chicago, you know what that bookshelf spawned?”

"What did it spawn?" She's enthralled. 

“.... Al. My job. If Will and Ruzek never… Al would’ve never known, and he got me my job. I miss him, you know,” I whisper. 

Her eyes well up a bit, and she hugs me from behind. "I know. Me too. I mean, you knew him way longer."

I wipe my eyes, sighing. “It is what it is. Can’t change it now, you know? Well. I need sauce. Sauces, yeah. Wanna help with the bread?”

"Bread!" She half-screeches. "Yes. Hell yes."

“Whatchya making…?” 

I glance to the doorway from the living room, and Will pokes his head around the corner. 

“What, you hungry?”

“Always,” he says, coming in and sitting on a barstool. He tries to steal some mozzarella, and I smack his hand. 

“No. You’ll spoil your dinner.”

Kelley laughs, and then wraps her arms around Will. "You're a child, Halstead."

“Why is this a surprise to you?” He says, hugging her back and not letting go. “Kate, how’re you doing?”

“Huh? Me? I’m fine. Totally fine,” I say, stirring.

Kelley hums. "Are you, though?"

“Don’t worry, guys, Crockett already debriefed with me earlier,” I say. “It’s just a little overwhelming.”

“What’s overwhelming?” I hear Jay’s voice. He’s chewing on something. 

Kelley reaches out for his sleeve and yanks him into the hug. "Halstead sandwich. The house, everything."

“Kate’s married! She’s got a house! Someone call the news,” Jay says. I squint at him, but he knows, as he smirks, it’s out of love. 

“So, how soon we getting some nieces or nephews?” Will asks, still clutching to Kelley still. 

“You sure you want that info?”

Kelley nods seriously. 

“We already started, guys. This is in full force. Why do you think we got the house?”

"Gross," Kelley mutters. "You're just… it's like my mom and dad… nope. Nieces and nephews would be good though."

I expect the same from the Halsteads, but I’m pleasantly surprised. Will just smiles. Jay looks stoic. 

“What’s on your mind? Penny for your thoughts.”

Jay’s the first one to speak for once. His eyes don’t meet mine. He just stares at the countertop. “Just crazy. Fifteen years ago, we were… we were kids, in Kandahar. Fightin’ for our lives. And now? Look at you two. Professors. Buyin’ a house. Havin’ kids.”

Will smiles, and sits down on the barstool, pulling the still hugging Kelley almost onto his lap. “We’re happy for you,” he says simply. 

“You two,” I say, and then change my mind. “You three. You all have been a part of that. Remember that.” I gesture with my wooden spoon. “Do _ not _, under any circumstances, share anything that we’ve done in the past with our children, okay?”

Kelley's giggling. "Will, Jay, I need all the stories. I'll even distract Kate so you can tell the kids."

“No. They don’t need to know. What about the time I stole your clothes and you almost got arrested for public indecency?” I say, gesturing at Will with my spoon. “And how about all the times we scammed the liquor store on Root and bought tequila? And what about the damn bachelorette party?!”

Kelley starts cackling. "I'm so proud."

I look between the three of them. I don’t know how these three ended up as a cop, a doctor, a firefighter. 

“I’m gonna make sure my kids end up nothing like you idiots.”

* * *

_ Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide _

**April 6, 2020** **  
** **1521 Hours** **  
** **British International School Chicago, South Loop** **  
** **Crockett**

I take Raelynn's hand, and I don't know why I'm suddenly nervous.

"You sure this is a good idea?" I ask softly.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She nearly snorts. She leans against the fence on the other side of the street from the school, her sunglasses shrouding most of her face. “It’s a nice day, she absolutely adores you.”

"I just… Yeah." 

I can feel the sun on my face and Raelynn's hand in mine, keeping me here, in the present. 

I'm nervous, hopeful. 

This feels so ridiculously domestic, and I love it.

I am so close to this. 

I watch the doors as they open and kids start flooding out. A crossing guard stops traffic as some of them cross the street, and then I see her, in her little pleated skirt and blazer and tie, finally see us. 

“Crockett!” She roars, and sprints the rest of the way through the crosswalk towards us.

I grin, and I meet her, swinging her up in my arms. "Hey, Evie," I say.

“Crockett, Crockett, Crockett, you’re here!” She yells, almost in my ear. 

"Yeah, darlin', I am," I chuckle. "I'm here."

She gives Rae her backpack, and Rae just chuckles. “Oh, so I’m good enough to take your bag, my Princess?”

“Yes,” she says, “I’m busy with Crockett.”

I laugh. "That's no way to greet your mama, sweetheart."

She leans towards Rae, still in my arms, and Rae moves in close enough so Evie can kiss her on the cheek. “Hi, Mama. Thanks for bringing Crockett.”

I laugh, and it's deep in my heart. "Evie, is it okay I came with her to pick you up?"

“Yes,” she says, very definitively, as she crawls around my arm so she can get a piggyback ride. 

“I’m sorry my child has no chill,” Rae says, glaring at Evie. Evie just giggles in my ear.

I shift so she's secure, and I wink at Raelynn. "Listen, I don't have any chill either."

“Mama, we should take the long way home and get cookies.”

“You do not need any more sugar,” she says. 

“Crockett, can we take the long way home and get cookies?” She says in my ear.

"Gladly, ma belle," I whisper back.

Rae just rolls her eyes and starts walking down the street, in what I can only assume is the long way home. It takes about a minute for Evie to start in again, and I’m not prepared for what she says.

“Mama, can Crockett pick me up from school more?”

My mind stutters, and I think I actually pause. "Evie? Rae?"

Rae looks just as shocked as I am. When she looks to me, I don’t think Evie realizes what she’s completely asked for. 

“Is that something…” Rae drifts. “Is that something that you would…”

"I'd be…" It takes me a moment. "I'd be glad to."

I see the blush on Rae’s cheeks, although she tries to hide beneath her sunglasses. “Well, I’ll call the school tomorrow and… and add him, okay, Evie?”

She just cuddles tighter onto me. “Good.”

I smile, and I bounce a bit, and as I do, it's like I'm home. 

"How about… this?" I say, jogging lightly down the sidewalk, hanging on so she doesn't fall.

“If you trip, it’s not my fault!” Rae calls out. Evie is just… gleeful, giggling, clutching onto me for dear life.

I'm laughing, and I'm so happy I don't know what I'm saying anymore, until I _ do. _

"Hang on to me tight, Mart- Evie!" I finish in a rush, and there's suddenly ice in my blood. I slow down, and I gotta keep that smile.

Rae catches up, and her smile fades a little. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” 

I just shake my head at her, forcing the laugh again. 

"How are you doin', Evie?" I say, and I take a breath. 

“Here!” She says, pointing to the coffee shop. “They have the best cupcakes.”

“Well, you heard the girl,” she says, opening the door. I can feel Rae’s concern, though, as we head inside. When we get to the glass case, Evie points at the chocolate cupcakes. 

“How can I help you?” The attendant asks.

“I would like five dozen of _ those _,” Evie says, pointing emphatically.

"Five… _ dozen? _" I say, chuckling a bit. "Ev, isn't that a bit excessive?”

“Please?” She whispers in my ear.

"Ask your mother," I say, smiling a bit, and it's like it's plastered to my face.

She glances at me, concerned, once again, and then says, “Why don’t we take a dozen home, and you can eat one of them now.”

“That’s fair,” I feel Evie shrug.

“She just scammed you into a dozen cupcakes, are you pleased with yourself, Marcel?” Rae says playfully.

"Yeah, yeah I am," I say, and… I think I am. God, focus. Focus on the little girl on your back, not the one in your mind.

The attendant smiles, laughs, and looks to me. “Your daughter has you completely wrapped around your finger,” she says, getting the box of cupcakes ready.

The words hit, and it's like a knife in me. But it's so special. Does this mean… we look like a family? 

God, I've wanted this. I want it. I chance a glance to Raelynn. I can almost see a ring on her finger if I imagine it. Well, that's on the To-Do list.

And then I realize that I saw Evie as a daughter that first night I met her. 

She looks so much like Martine. Like if Har... _No. _

Stop this. Stop it. Get ahold of yourself. You're not in New Orleans anymore. You're in Chicago. With Rae and Evie.

It’s then when I realize we’re walking down the street and Evie is whispering in my ear. 

“Are you okay, Crockett?”

God, I don't even know. 

"Yeah, Ev, I am." 

Just convince her, don't have to convince yourself, just her. She matters.

“You’re quiet,” she says matter-of-factly. “Want some cupcake?”

"I'm… okay, darlin'."

Yes. Stick to darlin'. That way I can't mess up the names again.

This all coulda been mine. Back then. 

By the time we make it back to Rae and Evie’s apartment, and Rae tells Evie to go do her homework in her room, Rae’s concern shifts to fear.

“Did… did I say something to upset you? Is this… is this going too fast, or…”

I sink onto the barstool, leaning on the counter. "Rae, I…" It's stuck, caught in the pathway between my mind and my mouth, somewhere in my throat.

“Is it something I did?” She says at a whisper. 

"No, oh God, _ no, _" I say, reaching out for her. "Not at all."

She comes around the counter, sitting on the other barstool. “Then what’s got you all off?”

I sigh, and this is it. 

"Rae, there was something I never told you that night, I… when I was still in New Orleans. My brother, he had a daughter, and when he and his girlfriend were killed," I pause, taking a breath. Focus, Marcel. "I was putting her to bed, I heard shots, and I took her, and hid her on the fire escape. She was three, and I took her in after that. Her name was, uh, Martine," I say softly, and I can't help but clutch Rae's hand. 

She draws a heavy breath, and grasps back. I can feel her gaze on mine, but I can’t look at her. 

"She died in a house fire when she was seven. I was trapped, and she, I think she thought I was dead, and her hand slipped out of mine. I still think about her. My niece, almost my daughter."

This is it. This is where I lose them. 

Please don't let me lose you two. I'm throwing a Hail Mary, and I need it to land.

Rae just wipes the tears from her face. 

“Oh, Crockett. You… you’ve been through too much. You deserve so much, much better than that.”

And she pulls me into her embrace.

"I can't lose you two, Rae," I say quietly. "You and Evie are part of me now. I'm sorry for hiding this. I wasn't ready to say it that night. I couldn't. It was still an open wound."

“Two things,” she says, her hands on my face. “One, there is no reason this would _ ever _ cause a rift between us. We… we’re too close now for that. And two, I want you to know you can take your time with anything. Contrary to popular belief and my own mother’s claims, I am, in fact, a patient person.”

I chuckle softly. "Rae, you're an angel." 

I take a breath, and I'm not sure when I started crying. "I can't let go of either of you. You're both a part of my heart now." I take a breath, and for the second time in an hour, my mouth speaks before I know what I'm doing. "I love both of you far too much to leave."

Her smile falls, but it’s not in sadness or disagreement. It’s in surprise. It’s in… in relief.

“I love you, Crockett Marcel, and I should have told you ages ago.”

I laugh, and I'm so relieved. "I promise, right here, right now," I say softly. "Full disclosure. Always. I love you so much," I whisper, pulling her close.

She chuckles. “Full disclosure, uh, Evie already knows.”

"That I love you?" I say, and I'm smiling. "I'm not surprised."

“That I love _ you, _” she says. “Actually, come to think of it, she said it first.”

I laugh a bit. "I'm… I'm glad. I'm glad I have you two," I say, touching her cheek.

She pulls me into a kiss. A deep kiss, a different kiss.

And then there’s a clearing of a little throat. 

I pull away, turning around to look at her. "Yes, Evie?"

She just makes her best attempt to climb up into my lap.

I chuckle, pulling her up. "What's up, honey?"

“I said it first,” she says grumpily. Rae just bursts out laughing. 

I laugh too, then kiss her forehead. "I believe you. You're a pretty smart kid, darlin' girl."

She gives me an angel smile. “I love you, Crockett!”

"I love you too, Evie," I whisper. "I love you too."

She wraps her arms around my neck again, giving me a massive hug, when she whispers, “Do you want a cupcake now?”

"Gladly, ma belle," I say. "I'd love one."

I brush her hair back, and for the first time in years, the pain is eased. This is Evie. My… maybe _my_ daughter, God willing. One day.

Lord, help me.


	48. Well I guess it would be nice if I could touch your body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley meets the first of the Rasmussen Guard: Tommy’s twin sister, Becky. After a harrowing lunch (for Tommy, not Kelley) they head back to his apartment, where things get heated, in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sex

_'Cause I gotta' have faith_

**April 8, 2020** **  
** **1324 Hours** **  
** **Monteverde Restaurant & Pastificio, 1020 W. Madison St., Chicago** **  
** **Kelley**

I'm terrified. 

I'm supposed to meet Tommy's sister, and I'm terrified. 

They're  _ twins _ . If this goes badly, I'm out. I'm out. Siblings over girlfriends.

I don't know about this, but I'm so excited.

I reach for Tommy's hand, and I hope he can't see how nervous I really am.

Well, I think he’s more nervous than I am. He’s jumpy. He’s looking around, checking his watch, checking the door. He plays with his shirt collar and messes it up a little.

I don't really think about it, and my hand goes to fix it. He leans into it like we’ve been doing it for years. 

And finally, he smiles.

“You… you look really nice. Really nice. Nice… nice dress.”

I smile back. "Look good?"

He nods emphatically. “You look beautiful in blue,” he says, brushing my hair over my shoulder. 

I lean into his hand, and I kiss his thumb.

Domestic. That's the feeling.

And then I hear a voice. Similar cadence, similar accent. 

“Oh, my God, Tommy, it’s finally happening.”

The woman approaching our table doesn’t match the voice. She’s… chic, in a well tailored black suit, a simple white oxford shirt, and a pearl necklace at her throat. 

And she looks…. well, like Tommy. Same color of sandy blonde, similar jaw line, and same color of hazel grey eyes. 

I stand up, smiling, and I extend my hand. 

"Hi, I'm- I'm Kelley. Kelley Marcks. It's good to meet you, Ms. Rasmussen."

She looks down at my hand. “Oh, honey, that’s not how we work.”

And she pulls me into a hug.

I blink, then hug her back. This… okay. I can deal with this.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says, dropping her bag and hugging Tommy for a while. “I was at court.”

“Hey… Hey, Becky. Beck, meet Kelley.”

I'm smiling at her, and I think I like her. She's already so much like Tommy, and this could be good. 

I just need to impress her, I almost feel the need to so that maybe I can stick around.

She sits down and looks over the menu. “Alright. I come here all the time, so if you need help let me know.” She immediately puts it down. “So, Tom tells me you’re a firefighter!”

Tommy gives me a sheepish smile. 

"Yeah… yeah I am," I say shyly. "House 51. I'm on Engine."

“Hold that thought,” she says, looking over the menu when the waitress appears. “Are you ready to order?” 

Her voice shifts to something completely different.

"Yeah, sure. Uh," I say, fumbling at the menu. "I'm not sure," I admit. "Becky, any ideas? I'm just allergic to sunflower seeds and oil."

“Love the pappardelle, but if we want to go all in, we could do the chicken parm,” she says. “Tom, what do you think?”

Tommy just still sits, kind of pale, his eyes flicking between the two of us. 

I reach for his hand, taking it in mine. "Tommy?" I whisper.

“Whatever works! I’m down for whatever!” He seems to squeak. 

Becky, though, turns to me. “He’s never introduced me to a girlfriend before,” she explains. “He gets like this sometimes when he’s nervous, although I’ve told him for weeks if he adores you, I will too.” The last part comes out slightly accusatory. 

I giggle. "I love him too," I say, winking at him. "I'm in for the chicken parm."

“Good… good to me,” he says, taking his shaking hand and sliding it under the table. 

“Oh? Is that so?” She says after ordering us lunch like some sort of high powered attorney. “Tom, when were you going to tell me that.”

“T-today, actually,” he tries, and then he chugs his water. 

“I’ve never seen him like this,” she says, turning to me. “You must have done a number on him.”

I lay my hand on his bouncing knee under the table, and I shrug. "Tommy, it's just your sister," I say softly. "It's okay, baby," I say, kissing his cheek. "For what it's worth, he gets me incoherent too."

“I don’t need to hear that,” she mutters. “So, we’ll let him recover. You’re a firefighter? Is that how you met?”

I sputter. "Oh god, no, not like that, no, we- okay. I'm a firefighter but we met at the bar I work at, Molly's. He was with his hockey team."

“Oh, nice! I thought she played on your team too, Tom.”

“She joined, yeah,” he says. 

"Yeah, I play," I say, smiling at him. "'Raz,'" I tease.

“Damn, buddy, you’re in deep,” she whispers. “So. Tell me all about it. How’d this end up happening?”

"I… I loved playing hockey with him, and then I realized how sweet he is."

“He mentioned something about your friend’s wedding? And how that was the last straw.”

"Kate and Mouse's wedding, yeah" I shrug. "Well, actually, early December was the point of no return for me. The day he dropped his hat at the call," I say, smiling at him.

“You still have that hat,” he mutters. “You never gave it back.”

I smile. "I like wearing it, baby."

“Yeah, you can keep it,” he says, looking a little more relaxed. 

“Wait, that was the leopard call, wasn't it?” Becky asks. “He’s insane. I hope you realize that. Did he tell you about the black mamba?”

My smile falls, and I nod, and damn it Kelley, he's safe, he's right in front of you, it's okay. 

"Yeah he did," I say, reaching for his hand again.

“He’s a dumbass. What about the cougar on the North Shore?”

"No?" 

Tommy just looks sheepish again. “Didn’t ….didn’t tell her about that one.”

“Or the coyote in Pilsen?”

“Didn’t tell her about that one, either,” he says, taking another long drink from his water glass. 

“Tom, are you holding out on her?” She says, checking her smartwatch and then smacking it. “Sorry, bud, not now, I’m in the middle of something.”

I giggle. "You two are so alike."

This wakes up Tommy. “We are nothing alike,” he says at the same time Becky says “this is a fair assessment.”

“You’re in law school!” He exclaims. 

“What’s the difference between me wrangling repeat offenders and you wrangling animals? I just do it in a suit and you, well, you get bit a lot. Am I gonna get bit…?” She trails off at the end.

"Yeah, you two are alike," I say again, snickering. 

My thumb brushes over the back of his hand, and I grin at Becky. 

“Alright, our jobs are ostensibly the same,” she says, ticking off her fingers. “We both refuse to leave Chicago. We both read way too much. We both have weird sports obsessions.”

"Becky, you're  _ twins _ ," I say, and I'm delighted. 

“Oh, trust me, I know. And he thinks just because he didn’t go to college he’s worse than me.”

“Becky—“

“Don’t try and fight me.”

"See, baby? You're perfect," I say, kissing his cheek again.

“Eh, debatable,” they say at the same time. 

Oh my God, there's  _ two of them. _ I'm going to have fun.

"Becky, are there any stories about him I should know?" I ask slyly.

“Beck,  _ no-” _

She takes a deep breath. “When we were, oh, about five, all he wanted was a slingshot. So, naturally, since we were still the babies—”

“I was the baby,” he mutters.

“—ten minute lead, don’t forget it,” Becky continues, “He got one. And he was told not to hit animals or aim towards the house.”

“I didn’t do either! I would never hit an animal! It bounced off the tree in the front of the house!”

“And it  _ barely _ missed the light on the front porch. Broke off some of the brand new siding.”

“I hate you so much,” he grumbles.

I start giggling. "Tommy, seriously?" I can't stop laughing.

He just groans and sinks into his chair.

“Or how about in marching band, when he thought he could impress some of the dumbass kids he thought were his friends by jumping over a pile of music stands? He sprained his ankle!”

I raise an eyebrow. "Tommy, honey, I think we're a good fit for each other," I mutter.

“Don’t tell me you’re a daredevil,” she says. 

Tommy just snorts a little.

"Oh, hell yeah I am!" I giggle. "I climb walls, I climb things, hell, I went all  _ Die Hard  _ off the side of a building once when the roof was collapsing!"

“I’m sorry, what?” They say at the same time.

"I never told you?" I say to Tommy, confused. "I thought I told you. It was Gallo's idea, because the ladder wasn't going to get up there in time before the roof collapsed.”

“I’m gonna have words with Blake,” he mutters.

“You jumped off a  _ roof?”  _ Becky asks.

I nod, still grinning. "Yeah, we did. Hose tied around my chest, sort of squeezed the air out of me, but it did the job!"

Tommy looks a little horrified, and I start to realize why. 

_ Full disclosure.  _

Oh, God. 

"Baby, no, I'm sorry," I say, squeezing his hands in mine. "It wasn't like that, Tommy," I whisper. "It wasn't, I promise you that."

His expression shifts immediately, like the fear lifts. I’m unsure of whether Becky caught it, but I’m not willing to find out.

“Hey, he’s done a lot of cute things, too,” Becky says.

“This is worse,” Tommy responds. 

Becky just starts beaming. “Has he told you about his musical theater career?”

"No?" I perk up, and I giggle. "Oh I need to know about this!" I still hold his hands, and it makes me feel a bit better.

“Somehow, he got cast as Enjolras in his junior year production of  _ Les Mis _ . The catch? The idiot can’t read music!” Becky crows.

“I learned it by ear,” he says. “This is unfair. You’re supposed to ask  _ her  _ questions, not drag me.”

“Fine, fine,” Becky says, eyeing the food as it comes down to the table. In a fast voice, almost a hushed whisper, she says, “He was Danny in our senior production of  _ Grease _ .”

“I’m gonna kill you,” he whispers quietly. She blows him a kiss.

* * *

When the bill comes, Becky takes it without letting us look. Tommy starts to make grumbling noises, and she points her perfectly manicured nail at him.

“Let me do this. Besides. It was my idea.”

I take the second she's distracted to grab for the bill, ducking under her arm.

“Kelley, I’ve got this, really,” Becky says, raising her eyebrow at me. “Consider this an investment.”

I blink. "If… if you're sure, Becky."

She drops her voice low. “All I want is him to be happy. I’ve never seen him like this.”

I glance to him. He peers out the window, a content smile on his face. 

“He… he’s a simple guy. He likes simple things. He doesn’t do complicated. I think you’re exactly what he needs.”

I nod. "I want to be that for him, I want it. I love him, Becky."

“I love him too,” she says. “He’s… he’s had a rough go when it comes to friends. But his family? We’re always there. Last couple months…. I’ve never seen him like this,” she repeats. 

"Do I pass inspection, Becks?" I ask softly, and I'm almost nervous.

“You passed inspection the moment he told me loved you,” she whispers. “If there’s any opinion I trust, it’s my twin brother’s. He can’t lie. It’s like, in his DNA.”

I wrap my arms around her, and it's like I'm trying to show how grateful I am through the hug. "Thank you," I say. 

“No, thank you,” she whispers in my ear. “Thanks for giving him a chance to show you who he really is.” When she draws from me, she snaps her fingers, and Tommy shakes his head. 

“I swear,” she says full voice. “Mom and dad got him hypnotized and he just goes full catatonic sometimes.”

I snort, reaching for his hand again. He takes it with a smile. 

“Alright, brother, loving girlfriend,” she says, getting her credit card back. “I have to get back to the law.”

I start giggling. "Tommy! If you two argue, and she wins, that's when you get to sing, 'I fought the law, and the law won!'"

She stands up, laughing and shaking her head. “Next time, we’ll meet at a bar, alright?” She starts leading the charge out, and Tommy looks relieved. When we step outside, she gives him a hug.

“So, when you gonna bring her home to mom and dad?”

“Uh, I… not sure?”

“Do it sooner rather than later,” she stage whispers. “Once she meets Rosalie and Finn, she’ll be hooked.”

“What about Matty?”

“We both know he’s the normal one,” she says, making a ‘blech’ noise. She drops a kiss on his cheek, then hugs me one more time. 

I grin, and reach up and kiss her nose, and I'm pretty sure that troublemaker look is back in my eye.

"Tommy, I love her. She's my sister now too, I love her," I beam.

He reaches out his hand for mine.

“I knew you would,” he says with a smile. “I can’t lie. It’s not in my DNA.”

As we walk back to the car, I feel like I just peeled back another layer of the man who is Thomas Rasmussen. 

* * *

I grin as we get in the door, and I'm bouncing. "I love her," I say again, for probably the hundredth time. "Tommy, your sister is amazing!"

He just locks the door behind us, and with a sigh, he leans against it.

“She’s the best,” he says, pulling himself off and kicking off his shoes. “I’m glad you two… glad you hit it off. Not that I was worried. She’s great. Told you way too many stories.”

"Oh, baby, I love the stories! Also," I say sheepishly. "Sorry for blindsiding you with the  _ Die Hard  _ story."

His smile fades. “Yeah. Yeah, that freaked me out a little,” he admits. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I didn't think… didn't think it was important," I say in a small voice.

“Why wouldn’t it have been important?” He says quietly. “Kelley, you… you tried to… you almost jumped off your balcony last year. Doesn’t that bother you?”

"It bothers me that I tried to, yeah, a bit," I shrug.

“I mean the… the fact that you had to do it to save your life,” he says. “When you had tried before to take it.”

"Tommy," I say. "This bothers you, doesn't it?"

He paces a little, still in his suit jacket and socks. He looks like a boy playing dress up in his dad’s closet. “It’s not the… it’s… I need you to understand something. I’m not scared of death. It doesn’t bother me. I just… the similarity between when you tried to die, and when you could have died. I think… that’s the part that bothers me.”

"Tommy, I'm a  _ firefighter.  _ I walk into places that I could die doing my job. That's just how I am. You too. That black mamba call? That story scared me."

“You don’t… that’s… you’re misunderstanding me,” he says, petting Topo as he brushes by and heads to his bed in the living room. “I know that. I get that, and that part doesn’t bother me. It’s the fact that you _ tried.  _ You  _ wanted  _ to. We’re all gonna go. We’re all gonna go whether it's… it’s a snake bite or a fire. But the fact that you  _ tried _ still bothers me.”

I stand there, and I huffs. "Why does that matter anymore? It was… it was almost a year ago!"

“Whether it was a year ago, or whether it was yesterday, it doesn’t matter,” He says. He can’t look at me. “It still is there. It’s still in your brain. Whether it’s big or small. What happens if that thought comes back?”

I step back, and there's a pain in my heart. "It won't," I say, but I'm not sure. 

“I don’t want it to,” he says. “I want you to be around.”

"I have you now," I say quietly. "Whether it does or it doesn't, I have you. Tommy, you got bit. By a dog. And from what I hear, it's not an uncommon occurrence, it… that scares me more."

“I’m not afraid to die,” he says, in the strongest voice he’s had all day. 

"That  _ scares  _ me, Tommy!" I cry. "I don't know what to think about that, I don't know how you mean that! I don't know if it's because that's the conclusion you've come to yourself, making peace with the fact we all eventually go, or not. Because I told myself that in a fit of insanity right before I tried to throw myself from the ninth floor!" 

“I’m not afraid to die, because I know where I’m going after,” he says. “Whether… whether you believe in heaven or not, I… I don’t even know.” It’s a sigh, a concern, for a second, but he continues. “I know where I’m going. What scares me is not… not doing what I’m supposed to do on this earth before I go.”

I'm crying and I don't know when I started.

"Tom, I…" I take a breath. "I believe in heaven, I do. And… all I want to do on this damn earth is every damn thing I can. I was born to help, Tommy. And I-" I take a breath. "I want to stick around, honey." 

I step closer, trying to meet his eyes. "I'm glue, baby."

He breaks his pacing, stops, with a weird look. “Are you quoting  _ Arrow?” _

I shrug. "If the shoe fits, I'll wear it." 

I sit down, suddenly tired, and I don't care that I'm in a dress, I kick my legs up onto the coffee table.

“Are… are we okay?” he says quietly. 

"I hope so," I say, wiping my eyes. "I love you. I don't want to lose what we have, baby."

“I love you too,” He says, sliding down onto the couch next to me. “Thanks… thanks for coming with me today.”

I lean into him. "Always," I say. "Meeting your family means a lot to me."

He slips his arm around my shoulders. “You’ll have to meet the rest of them. But Becky… Becky is like, the first line of defense.”

"I think I passed," I chuckle, kissing his cheek but missing, hitting his jaw instead.

He turns my face towards his with a touch of his fingers, and he kisses me on the lips. 

“You did. Do you work tomorrow?” He asks, almost abruptly.

"Nope. But I start at 8 on Friday. Figured I'd spend some time with you, if that's alright," I say, kissing him again.

He takes my face in his hands, and he just looks at me. And then, he breaks in a smile. 

“I was hoping you would say that.”

I giggle, kissing him once more, but this time I deepen it. 

His hands slip down my shoulders, to my waist, as he pulls me closer. 

And then, Tommy Rasmussen pulls me onto his lap.

I hum, arms going around his neck as I kiss him, and my mouth opens before I know what I'm doing, and I just let it happen. 

He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me, and there’s nowhere for me to go but kiss him. 

I let my tongue trace his lip, and I feel right. This… this is good. His hand slides into my hair, messing up the pretty look I had from earlier, but he doesn’t want me to go. I don’t want to go either.

My lips on his… the feeling is making me feel warm. I'm almost drunk on the feeling.

I lean back just far enough that he chases me, and I start trying to slip his suit jacket off. 

"Baby, let me get it off," I say, because his arms are still around me. He hesitates, just barely long enough to let me go, but he just watches me, unable to speak. 

I surge back into him, lips back on his lips, and I just need it. Need him. I get his jacket off, and his hands are back on my hips, almost like magnets. He almost whimpers, trying to get his mouth back on mine.

"Right here, baby," I say, working on the buttons on his shirt.

And, suddenly, he pulls from me, his hands on mine, stopping me from my work. 

“Wait.”

I pull back, and I'm suddenly so scared. Almost ashamed. Oh God, I went too far. He's uncomfortable. I pushed too far-

“Kelley, Kelley, Kelley. You’re spiraling. No, it’s not you. It’s… it’s me.” His cheeks blush, and he doesn’t know how to speak for a second. “I… I’ve never done this before.”

My mind slams back into me from where it was running around, and I nod. I can work with this.

"Is this okay? Do… do you trust me?"

He actually starts to laugh. “Oh, yeah, it’s okay, I just… you needed to know. You needed… I couldn’t let you without… yeah. Is that okay?”

I giggle. "It's perfectly okay, and… in the interest of full disclosure, I've… I've done it before. Once." My smile fades a bit as I look at him. "I'm clean. Is… is that okay?"

He’s just nodding emphatically at this point. I don’t know if he can speak, and his hands rest on my thighs. 

“Please. Yeah.”

I take a deep breath, and I shed my wrap, my hands going back to his shirt buttons. I need to undo them. Gotta. But he’s so distracting, trying to catch my mouth with his, his hands on my thighs and threatening to inch higher.

I finally get them, and I slip his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, and I move so I'm straddling him, hiking up my skirt so I can. 

“Kelley, I want you so bad,” He whispers, almost like it’s a confession, as he slides his hands higher. I feel his fingertips on my skin. 

"I want you too," I say, and I lay kisses on his jawline, moving slowly down his neck. He lets out a little moan, and then scrambles to get his shirt off his wrists, and then off completely. This time, when his hands find my thighs, his hands are deep under my skirt.

I pull my hands away, trying to find the zipper. This dress needs to come off,  _ now. _

His hands leave my thighs, and he slides them up my ribs, and then my back, pulling me closer to him. He kisses my neck as he fumbles for the zipper, then finds it and pulls it down.

I slip my arms out at the same time I hop off his lap, standing up. 

I don't drop it, not yet. He stands up, and I finally get to see him, completely shirtless.

I think I whimper. I'm not sure. 

He's so beautiful. I need him. He's mine, and I need him.

I sashay back, wiggling my hips a bit as I clutch the dress, waiting to watch him. I love watching him. I can't wait to drop the dress, and I just watch him. 

But he’s watching me. He nearly falls over his coffee table, trying to get to me, but eventually just vaults over it, giggling, as he comes after me.

I hold up a finger to make him wait, and I wink as I let the dress slip down my hips, and I hear the fabric rustle as it pools at my feet.

He lets out a little whimper, and then he almost looks embarrassed, and for the first time since I’ve met Tommy Rasmussen, the embarrassment just… slips away. It slips away to a giggle, and then a laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

I giggle too, and I reach and adjust my boobs in my strapless bra, and I know he sees it.

“You could just take that off,” He says, and then he makes himself laugh. 

"What if I want help taking it off?" I say shyly.

“I can do that,” he says, coming closer to me, sliding his hands over my hips. He draws a heavy breath. “I can definitely do that.”

And before I realize it, he’s sliding his hands over my thighs and pulling me up into him.

I inhale, and I'm needing this. Him.

I slip my hands behind his neck again, pulling him closer. He carries me into his bedroom and kicks the door shut. He bites his lip as he looks up at me. 

“Don’t need Topo seeing this.”

"Have I said how much I love you yet today?" I whisper, kissing him again, and I'm kissing him  _ hard. _

“You can tell me more than once,” he says. “I love you, too.” Gently, he sets me down on the edge of his bed, his hands shifting down my sides, to my hips, to tracing my panties.

"If you want them off, just do it," I whisper. "I need to know what you want, baby."

“You,” he says simply, his breath already hitching. “To make you happy.”

"I already am. What do you want to feel?"

I am happy. I could be closer to him though. I need to be closer.

His smile fades a little, and he pays more attention to his hands than his answer. He slips his fingers under the lace and starts sliding them down my thighs.

“I.. I want to be inside you.”

My breath hitches, and all I can do for a second is gaze at him. "That… that can be arranged," I say, and I can't help the little whine.

He uses his hands to take my panties off, sliding down the entire length of my legs until he can toss them away. 

I reach out, my hands landing on his chest.

"What do you want first?" I ask, and I'm ready to do whatever he wants.

He sinks to his knees in front of me, his hands resting on my thighs, and he doesn’t answer me. He just parts my legs. 

I gasp a bit, and I start nodding. "Yep, I like that idea."

And, with the smile of an angel, he starts kissing up the side of my thigh until he reaches my center.

I whimper, and I'm wet, I can't help it. My hand reaches out, slipping into his hair. I can feel his tongue, darting against me, his hands resting against my thighs, pushing them apart. 

"Baby, yeah," I say breathlessly. "So good, it feels so good." 

At my breathless words, he makes it worse, and his hand shifts. He slips a finger inside me. 

I can't help bucking a bit, and the whimper bursts out of me. "Oh," I gasp in a breath.

He breaks from me just long enough for him to say, “I’m a virgin, not a priest,” before slipping another finger inside me.

I squirm, and it's so good. I can feel his fingers in me, and it's all I can do to whisper, "Tommy, that's so good, baby, that's… that's really good…"

He shifts faster, angling his fingers inside me, and he bears down on my center. Pushing my thighs open a little more, his hand hits my waist. 

I can't help tugging his hair a bit, and the whines are tumbling out of my mouth, desperate. I'm rocking, trying to grind onto his fingers. I love them in me… I need them deeper.

He doesn’t ask. He slips in a third finger, pushing me wider.

I get louder, I can't help it. 

"Babe, I didn't-" he hits a spot inside me and I gasp. "I didn't know you had this in you."

He pushes me down onto his bed, a hand on my stomach, as he reaches that spot again.

I'm panting, and I'm so close but I want… I want him in me deeper, and… I'm whimpering, trying to rock my hips into him.

He draws his mouth from me, repositioning, and his thumb finds where his mouth left off. From here, he can see me, and he thrusts deeper with his fingers, watching me squirm with a smile on his face.

God, he looks so beautiful. And it's so hot. He's hot. 

I have trouble speaking, feeling his fingers inside me, stretching me open. 

"Tom- Tommy, so good… what do you want me to do, baby?"

“What do I…?” It’s like the simplest question in the world. “I want you to come, baby.”

It's like he's given permission for the gates to open, and I let go, and I'm shaking, whimpering, and there are tears on my face as I shudder. I'm begging for him, whimpering his name. 

"Tommy, Tommy," I whine, the waves crashing over me. At first, he’s hesitant, but with each cry of his name, he doesn’t stop. He holds me down, and he doesn’t stop.

I buck against his hand, and the waves roll over me, and I cry out his name again, the sensations crashing into me. He refuses to stop, he won’t stop, not until the waves start to shift back to sea. He finally pulls his fingers from me, a smile wide on his face.

I whine, missing his fingers, feeling the empty hole. I'm breathless, just trying to gather myself again. He licks me off his fingers, waiting for me to recover. 

“Was that good?” He whispers.

"Oh it was so good," I whimper, trying to shift. I I can't sit up, not yet, but I yank him closer, kissing him. I can… I can taste myself on his lips. He kisses me harder, his hands sliding over my ribs, then lifting me off the bed. 

I gasp, hanging onto him. "Baby?"

He bites his lip back as I feel the clasp of my bra give way. 

I take it, tossing it aside, and my chest is free. I need his pants off. I have this unspeakable need for his pants off. He's wearing far too many clothes.

But he has different ideas right now, his mouth running down my chest. His mouth finds my nipple, and he runs his teeth over me. 

I arch up into him, crying out. "God, yes, baby," I say, and I don't know where to put my hands, so they tangle in my hair, trying to let him do his good, good work.

He bears down on me, sucking me, holding me against him, and I feel his hand slip down between my legs again.

I jolt, still sensitive, before I buck up into him. 

"Baby, babe, do… do you have something?"

“Yeah, yeah, nightstand,” he says, reaching almost blindly towards the drawer. He doesn’t want to draw his hands from me, his mouth from me.

I reach for them, and I'm suddenly shy again.

But he’s… not. He finally leans back on his knees, just taking me in. 

I come back, and I reach for him. I tug at his waistband, tug the zipper down and yank his pants to his knees. I can't get the rest of the way unless he moves. 

He slides off the side of the bed, fumbling with almost shaking hands.

"Okay, baby," I whisper, finally sitting up. "C'mere."

He takes a tentative step towards me, running his hand through his hair. 

I gently tug down his boxer briefs, and I glance up to him, almost shy. He almost doesn’t know what to do for a second, and then he seems to break from his internal monologue, and kicks them off. He's standing right there, so I fumble with the condom, and I try to do this. Just this. I slip it on him, looking up to meet his eyes.

As soon as I touch him, he draws in a little breath, his hand on my arm. 

"Is this okay?" I ask him, my voice small.

“Oh, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. This is… way more than okay.”

I smile, and I nod. "What do you want me to do, baby?"

“I…” He starts, and then he laughs a little. “I don’t care, as long as my mouth is on you. Is that dirty? Is that… is that bad?”

"It's perfect," I whisper, pulling him down on top of me, kissing him hard. He pins me in, and I can feel him against me as he kisses me. 

I place my hand on his chest, and then I move, and suddenly I grin as he looks up at me where I've flipped him on his back.

“Oh,” he lets out, almost a whisper, as he hits the bed, and then he starts  _ giggling.  _

I straddle him, smiling down to him.

"This okay?"

He runs his hands up my thighs again, and he almost looks frantic, waiting for me, a smile on his lips. 

I prop myself up on my knees, and I take him in my hand, lining myself up, looking at him, watching him.

He lets out a little whimper, and where I was arching into his fingers before, he arches into mine.

I take a breath, and then I sink myself slowly down onto him. He shudders against me, drawing in a deep breath, his fingertips sinking into my thighs.

"Is this good, baby?" I whisper.

“So good,” he says, his voice shaking. “It’s perfect. So good.”

I breathe, adjusting to him, but we fit so well. In every way. I sink onto him fully, taking him to the hilt. 

“Yes, Kelley, yes,” he whispers, and in the afternoon light, as it slips through his curtains, he looks at me like I’m the sun.

I push up, sliding up him, so far I'm almost off him. He whines, he pushes on my thighs. 

“Kelley, c’mon. You’re teasing me.”

"Just wait, baby," I say, sinking back down onto him, a little faster this time. I feel him shift under me, almost thrust up to meet me, like he can’t wait.

"You're getting eager," I chuckle, and for good measure I do it again, sinking deep onto him.

“Kelley, c’mon. Do I gotta beg for it?”

I giggle. "Don't give me ideas," I say, steadying myself with a hand on his chest. "Or maybe I'll take you up on that offer. Maybe I should make you," I tease.

He’s whining now, he’s panting a little, as I wait, sunk deep onto him. “Please, Kelley. Please. Seriously. Don’t do this to me.”

His words go deep into me, and I feel that almost hazy feeling hit again, and I love the way the words just fall out of his mouth.

"Okay, baby," I say. "You've got me." 

I start a slow rhythm, rocking onto him, one hand on his chest, the other on his stomach, like he did to me. "Like this? Or more?"

“More, Kel, please,” he breathes. 

I start speeding up a bit, pulling back, then taking him further,  _ deeper  _ into me, and I need him as deep as I can, as deep as he can go.

He lets out a moan this time. A loud moan. A desperate moan. He’s trying to breathe, he’s trying to control himself, but the flush inches up his chest, his neck, his cheeks. 

"How do you feel, baby?" I say breathlessly, and him in me is making me see stars. The same stars I see in his eyes.

“More, baby,” he breathes, and his voice shudders, his hands sliding to my hips. “Don’t stop.”

I giggle, and I rock more, rolling my hips into his, taking him in deeper. I fall forward, my hands tangling back in his hair, and I keep rocking on him, riding him. He’s reaching for any part of me he can touch. My hips, my arms, my thighs. 

I guide his hands to my chest, trying to breathe. "Tommy, you… you're so big inside me," I whimper. "Feels so good, so full in me." I have to pant. "So big, so full, so good, baby."

He just focuses on his hands, and I think it’s the only thing he can do to hold it off. Between his fingers, he rolls my nipples, squeezing me as I ride him.

I cry out, and I roll my hips again.

“Baby, Kelley, are you close, I’m close,” he breathes. 

"So close, baby," I whimper, and I can hear the sounds, the wet sound as I take him in me. I slip my hand between us, playing with my center, the base of his shaft.

He slides his hands down my hips, around my waist, and pushes me down towards him, taking my nipple back between his lips. 

"Tommy, babe, baby, I'm ready," I moan, feeling him on me and in me.

His hands are already shaking as he slides them up to my shoulder blades, his fingers sinking deep into my skin. He brings his mouth back to mine, gasping, and kissing me, before his head falls back against the pillow.

“Kelley, I—”

"I'm gonna come, baby, come for me," I plead.

It’s all he needs. I don’t know how he held off for so long, but he comes, and he comes hard, holding me close as he does.

And I follow, pulsing, throbbing around him, and he feels so good in me, and I'm shaky and jerky, but I ride him through it.

"Tommy, Tommy, baby," I cry his name.

He’s devolved into gasping and breathing my name, almost under his breath, almost a prayer.

My fingers flex on his chest, and I feel myself clenching, like I'm trying to milk every bit of pleasure, and I let out an almost-scream as I shudder into him.

He cuts me off, pulling my mouth into his, gasping, kissing me, like the only thing he could breathe is me.

I'm whimpering into his mouth, and my hands slide up his sides, taking his hands, locking our fingers, and I push his wrists into the bed.

He looks, he watches me, still gasping for breath, and then he smiles.

“I like that,” he says, looking at my hands pinning his against the bed.

"Then I'll do it more," I almost growl, kissing him hard again, and I'm hungry. Hungry for him. 

“You think we could…” he drifts, still trying to catch his breath. “You think we could get some Gatorade and do it again?”

I giggle. "Take your time, baby, and of course. So good. I'm proud of you." I let go of his hands, gently pushing on his chest as I pull myself off him. He lets a little whine as I do.

"Listen," I say, sliding off the bed, and I'm almost like jelly. "Put it this way. I'm yours now." I wiggle my hips, looking over my shoulder at him, winking. 

As I leave the bedroom, I hear him scramble to get up. “Kelley? Where else can we do it? Can we do it in the kitchen? In the bathroom? Kelley, c’mon!”


	49. I'll let you set the pace 'cause I'm not thinking straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley and Raz wake up in each other’s arms after an interesting night in his apartment. But that interesting night leads to an interesting day, and their innocent game of not being able to keep their hands off each other leads to a repeat of the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sex

_My head spinning around; I can't see clear no more (What are you waiting for?)_

**April 9, 2020** **   
** **0703 Hours** **   
** **2230 S Kedzie Ave # 2FFB, Little Village, Chicago** **   
** **Raz**

As I wake up, I have to brush hair from my face. Wait.  _ Kelley _ . 

Holy shit. It finally happened. Wait. It happened… a lot. 

I brush her hair back from where it had ended up in my face. How long did we… 

She stretches out, looking up at me. She looks almost confused, and then she smiles. "Hey, baby," she whispers, reaching for me.

I pull her closer to me. I have to. God, she’s still naked. Damn.  _ Damn. _

Without a second thought, I kiss her. I kiss her hard. 

She kisses back, hands tangling into my hair. She presses closer, almost glued to my side.

“We uh, we really…. Got at it last night, didn’t we?”

She giggles. "Yeah… I think we did, honey," she says breathlessly. 

“That was…  _ fun, _ ” I say, unable to hold back a chuckle.

She nods, but her eyes are slipping closed again as she yawns. "Fun…"

“You’re gonna fall back asleep,” I say in a sing-song voice, tracing a finger down her jaw.

She shivers, turning her head to kiss my finger but she yawns again. As she slips off, back asleep, I can’t not look at her. The light catches her blonde hair, making it look gold. God, she’s beautiful.

And just like that, she falls back asleep. But now that I’m up, I’m up, so I gently pull from her. I don’t want to, really, but she should sleep. 

After last night? She should definitely sleep. 

I get up as gently as I can, find my boxers and… my pajama pants are somewhere… there we go. Shit, I slept in my contacts again. Gotta fix that. Where did I put my glasses?

I find them on the counter in the kitchen, and I can see again. 

I don’t want to wake her up, but my brain’s already running, and my keyboard is still out from the other day. I can just turn it down, right? 

I turn it on, and make sure the volume is low, and try to plunk out my latest project. Would help if I could read music, but it is what it is. 

Hmm. I don’t want to be that guy, but the world’s a little different now. It’s brighter. And it’s not from last night, exactly. No, it’s from her. 

Someone clears their throat behind me. And then I hear her small voice. "Tommy?" 

My hands hit the keys, and I stop, I turn it off, and I take my glasses off. “H-hey. Sorry. I wanted to let you sleep.”

She yawns, talking through it. "I'm awake, thank you for that, don't stop just because I walked in."

I squint a little, and then I sigh. “I… I don’t play for people. I can’t. I… I can’t read music, so it’s all, you know, from up here.” I tap the side of my head… with the hand holding my glasses. Shit. Such an idiot.

"You have glasses? Put them back on so you can see, honey," she hums.

“They’re not… they’re…” and then I realize something. You know what? It’s  _ Kelley.  _ I slip them back on and give her a little shrug. Wait, is she wearing my shirt?

She smiles at me. "I like your glasses. They look good on you."

“Oh? Oh,” I say, absentmindedly playing the chord progression I had in my head. 

She comes closer, hands going to my shoulders and rubbing them.I can barely hear the piano, but as she works the knot out of my shoulder, I close my eyes and play the chords again.

She keeps rubbing, fingers digging into the muscle. 

I lean into her touch, humming along the vocal line. It all feels right. It feels like this is what we should be doing.

The words are on my lips before I can even stop myself, almost a whisper. 

“She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes. She can ruin your faith with her casual lies…”

She takes a breath, fingers working out the muscle a bit further down my back.

“And she only reveals what she wants you to see, she hides like a child but she’s always a woman to me,” I sing, just loud enough over the piano. I stop when she hits a particularly bad spot on my back.

"It's okay," she says soothingly. "Just let me get it." She works out the knot, both hands rubbing and massaging.

“Song reminds me of you,” I say, leaning into her hands. God, her hands. I want them on me again.

She chuckles. "Thank you." 

She works it out, then moves down to another spot. That one is a bit tighter, but I hold back the groan, because whatever she’s doing is working.

“Do you… do you want breakfast?” I ask. “We kinda… skipped dinner.”

"Sure, just let me… let me finish this spot." Her thumbs dug in, smoothing over the skin, firm and gentle at the same time. I lean into her hands, and I start to chuckle.

“I’ve twenty-five, I shouldn’t have knots.”

She snorts. "Lies. Everyone gets them. I walked in on Stella rubbing out knots in Severide's shoulders. Hell, I walked in on Darren trying to get a knot out of Blake's neck. I stood there and stared at them and went, 'Boys, is there anything I need to know?'" She says it seriously, like she's reenacting it.

I laugh, because I can see it happening. “I like those two,” I say. “They invited me to Molly’s with them.”

"I'm glad. You all need friends your own age. Darren's just got his boyfriend and Blake, and now you. Blake's got Darren, you, and… whoever that crush I keep hearing about is. And now you have those two. And me."

“And Kate, and Mouse!” I say. “I never used to think Kate liked me that much. Mouse always did. At least, I think so. And Dr. Marcel! He’s such a cool guy.”

"He is," she says softly. "I'm really glad you like him."

“Why wouldn’t I?” I scoff. I wonder what kind of breakfast food I could make. I could definitely make pancakes. “He’s nice, and I… I think he likes me.”

She giggles now. "Tommy, he loves you."

“You think so?” I say, looking over my shoulder to her. “Do you want pancakes?”

"I'd love pancakes. And I know so."

I get up from the makeshift stool I had made for the piano, and she continues to cling to me. I chuckle, trying to walk to the kitchen and find the Bisquick.

“Kelley, I’m not gonna be able to cook if you’re hanging on me.”

"Challenge mode, Razmuffin," she says, giggling.

“That’s… that’s a weird one,” I mutter, reaching for the mixing bowl. “Do you want chocolate chips?!”

"Yes!" She screeches, burying her face in my arm with a laugh.

“You’re like a sloth,” I say, trying to get to the fridge for eggs and milk. 

"I'm  _ your _ sloth, baby."

“How are you this energetic?” I ask, finding my cast iron pan and pour probably too much batter into it. 

"I'm right here with the man I love," she says, rubbing her eyes.

I pull her face up to mine and I kiss her. 

“Wait. I should have bacon in the freezer. I’m doin’ this all out of order.”

"Doin' me all out of order," she mutters under her breath, and I don't know if I was meant to hear it.

I finish off the one pancake, then set it on a plate and put a towel over it before getting out another pan. Oh. I have sausage too, nice. 

“Kelley, why are your hands drifting.”

"Because," she says innocently. 

“I’m trying to cook, baby,” I say, drawing a breath. “Can you control those hands of yours?”

"Nope!" She hums, hand brushing down over my hips. "I feel sore."

“What? Baby, what’s wrong?” 

"Nothing," she whispers. "It's a good sore, like we went all night."

“Oh. Yeah,” I chuckle. “We kinda did, didn’t we?”

She slides her hands down my hips, lower. Her hands slide to my thighs as she… 

And she's in front of me. On her knees.

“Baby,” I laugh nervously, trying to focus on cooking, but I can’t. My hand’s already shaking. “Baby, what are you doing?”

She giggles, smiling up at me, gently tugging on my pajama pants. 

“Babe, I can’t stop cooking now,” I say, “we can… why don’t we do this later… Kelley?”

She hums. "Challenge mode, baby," she says with a wink before she hooks onto my boxers and yanks them down, with her  _ teeth. _

“This… this isn’t challenge mode, this is impossible. Kelley, please.”

She looks up at me innocently, and then opens her mouth. 

“Kelley, I’m making breakfast, aren’t you hungry?”

She nods, and then takes me in her mouth. I knew I had warning, but nothing would have prepared me. I’m cooking! In my own kitchen! And she’s on her knees in front of me, as I’m trying to focus on the stove, and I slide my hand into her hair. 

“Kelley, this is... “ I drift, feeling her mouth around me. “I was gonna say unsafe, but don’t stop.”

She slides her lips up me, her tongue swirling, a hand on my thigh to steady herself, the other on my hip.

Oh, my  _ God _ . She takes me in, and I’m worried about  _ food _ . “I… I can stop cooking. Yeah. I could stop cooking.” I mutter.

She huffs a laugh around me, tongue running lines and swirls. 

“Or… or not. Challenge… challenge mode, yeah.” I check the stove once more, trying to control my heaving breaths. 

After last night, I should have been prepared for this. Spoiler alert: I’m not. 

She takes me deeper into her mouth, and she looks up to me, little noises escaping her mouth as she does. Jesus.  _ Jesus _ . I suppress the urge to stop everything, to hold her there, to make the noises worse. They send shudders down my spine. I level with myself, and I take a deeper grip of her hair.

She whimpers around me, and her lips move. She whimpers again, her hand leaving my hip to meet mine in her hair. 

She sucks,  _ hard.  _

I don’t want to hurt her, but I shift my grip on her hair, slipping down to the nape of her neck. I take a handful there, a larger one, and find myself almost thrusting into her mouth.

She whimpers around me, and her eyes are glazing over, and she's almost smiling where her mouth is filled. Her little whines and noises get louder, more desperate as she takes me deeper into her mouth, sucking me harder.

I’m starting to feel numb. All my feeling is coming from her, her mouth around me, and my legs are already shaking. 

“Babe. Baby, I… I’m gonna come,” I whisper, I almost growl. I can’t help but hold her head there for a second, and then I draw away my hand, waiting for her. 

She whines, her lips moving around me. I hear her try to say something, but it's so muffled and mush, and she runs her tongue around me again, eyes staring up to me.

“Tell me what you want,” I gasp. “Can I… can I?”

She nods her head, and she gazes up at me, her tongue moving, and the tiniest graze of teeth, not too much, just enough. The pressure builds, and my hand finds her hair again, grasping a handful. I’m making my own noises. They start to match hers, as she takes me in deep, and then it’s everything I can do to hold onto her, as I pulse inside her mouth.

She's taking it, and she licks me through. God, she just takes it. She takes  _ all  _ of it, as I shake, as I come, as I hold her against me. I’m panting, I’m already exhausted, and we just woke up.

Finally she pulls back a bit, and it's dripping from her mouth as she smiles up at me, swallowing. It’s enough to almost make me want to come again. 

“Jesus, Kelley,” I say, trying to focus my mind enough to… salvage whatever breakfast we have left.

She sinks back onto her knees, panting. 

"Baby?"

“That was... “ I drift. “That was incredibly hot. That was hot. Wow. Okay. Uh. Pancakes?”

\--------------

I’m quiet all the way through breakfast, but I don’t think she minds. I’m still trying to recover. 

I glance into the kitchen. Well, I’m not gonna be able to cook there, anymore.

She sighs, a content smile on her face as she finishes. 

“I want this all the time,” I find myself saying under my breath. 

She giggles, slipping off her chair, and then she  _ crawls  _ under the table to me.

“Kelley?” I gasp. “Kelley, what are you doing—”

And she yanks down my pants again, lips back on me, around me.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I say, pushing her back off of me. “Hey. You…” I point at her, standing, my pants now down around my ankles. “You’re… you... “

She looks up at me wide-eyed, and then smirks, trying to reach up to do it again.

“Hey, wait,” I say. “You, uh. You… you kinda liked when I grabbed your hair, right?”

"Yeah," she breathes. "Loved it."

I run it through my brain. Yeah, okay, I can do this. “Okay, good,” I say, reaching out with my hand for her to get up.

She reaches for my hand, slowly standing up. She's still pouting because I interrupted her.

"That dick is mine," she says in the sweetest voice.

I gasp, but I nod. “Technically, it’s mine, but I’ll give you joint custody,” I say, pulling her into me.I start unbuttoning her shirt. Well, it’s my shirt.

She whines, reaching up to help. I push her hands down. 

“Let me do it.”

She pouts again but her hands drop back to her sides. I finally unbutton the shirt and push it off her shoulders, letting it fall. I’m already worked up again. Dammit. This woman. 

I don’t touch her. I just lean down and kiss her.

Her hands come back, wrapping around me as she whimpers into my mouth. I grab her hips, and suddenly, I find myself inching back with her towards the wall. We hit the wall harder than I expect, but I don’t stop kissing her. 

She gasps, hands threading into my hair. Oh, okay, good. She likes this. She likes it. I push her again.

She melts into me, her breaths starting to hitch. I just smile. I kiss her jaw, I kiss her neck, and I start trailing down her chest. It’s already becoming second nature to me. Less than twenty-four hours, and it’s all I want to do with her. I’m blinded by the need, and I’m looking up at her from my knees again.

She looks down at me, and her legs are starting to shake. "Babe, baby, you…" she whispers.

She can’t finish her sentence, and while I don’t like cutting her off, I think this is a good reason. I lick her, between her legs, and as she quakes, I push her back against the wall, my hands on her thighs.

"Tom…" she whines, her fingers tugging my hair as she tries to stay standing. I’m practically humming Billy Joel against her at this point. God, she tastes good. I push her legs apart, although she’s still shuddering. I love the shudder. I want that. I want her to do it all the time. 

I look up at her while I tease her, running my fingers over her.

She's panting, making those noises I love, the whimpers. "Mmm, baby," she manages before she moans.

I draw enough from her to speak, to whisper. “What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

"Want… want you…" she says, and then she can't say more, a long, low moan bursting out of her. I want that. If she wants me, I want her and those noises again. 

I return my tongue to its work, and I remember last night. Several times, in fact, and I skip to two fingers, slipping inside her folds.

She jolts, tugging my hair. I’m humming again, I’m buzzing, as she pulls. I didn’t know I liked that. Huh. I shift my fingers inside her, trying to find that spot again.

She's trying to grind down on my fingers, and those noises start again, messy little whimpers. "Baby, more, more," she begs, pushing herself onto my hand.

I try desperately, searching inside her, wanting to make her moan again. While I do, I slip in another finger. I force her back against the wall, a hand on her stomach.

It's like her breath is gone, and she's shuddering. "Tommy," she whimpers, pushing herself onto my hand, her legs almost giving out. I shift so her leg is over my shoulder, using my body to hold her up. I flick my tongue faster over her. I want those moans. I want her. I want  _ her. _

And then she inhales, and she moans, deep and desperate, morphing into almost a wail.

She makes it seem so easy, and I speed up my fingers. I want her to do it again. I will her to do it again. Anything I can do to make it happen again, I try, curving my fingers inside her, feeling her from the inside.

She's panting, almost collapsing against me. "Baby, need…"

“What do you need?” I murmur, barely moving from her, my lips against her. “Ask it. I’ll do it.”

"Take me, baby, please," she whimpers.

“Want you to come first,” I say, and then I just… I slip another finger into her. I don’t think. I just do it.

She moans again, hands flexing in my hair, and she's whimpering. "Wanna come, gonna come," she says, words messy in her mouth. She’s so pretty when she’s messy.

I don’t respond, other than holding her down, my hand sliding up her stomach, forcing her against the wall as I don’t breathe, I just do it as hard as I can.

She cries out, sinking onto my hand, shuddering as her head falls back, and she keeps crying out, louder and more desperate, and she's crying my name. I don’t dare draw from her. Not yet. Not with the way her voice breaks over my name. 

I’m the one making her feel that way.  _ Me. _

"Tommy…" she wails, her legs giving out. The only thing keeping her against the wall is my hand on her stomach and my fingers inside her. I don’t stop. I don’t want to, even as I hold her up.

She jolts against me, mewling. "Baby, Tommy, Tommy, still…." 

I can’t help but laugh as she just… disintegrates around me. Not so tough now, are you? I can’t help but thinking it. That’s a different voice in my head. I’m not used to it. I’m not sure what it is. 

I look up to her, watching her face as she comes. 

There's tears leaking down her face, and she's still moaning, but she looks happy. That’s all I ever want. That’s all I think I ever will want, to be honest. I slow my fingers inside her, still thrusting, but slower, letting her come down slow. 

She collapses against the wall, against my hand, panting, gazing at me. "Tom… Tommy…"

I draw my fingers out of her, rubbing her gently, looking up to her. 

“I think I’m learning,” I say, chuckling.

She whimpers, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, still shaking. "You… you are," she whispers. "Want you."

I stand up, and I start towards the bathroom. “We should probably shower at some point, you know. Maybe, uh. Together. You know.”

I hear her try to stand up, and she's still panting. "Baby, wait up!"

I start to wash my hands, and I hear her voice from the living room. “What?”

"Shaky," she says grumpily, finally appearing in the door. "Want you."

“You can’t even speak right now,” I say proudly. Proudly? I can… I can do something proudly?

She huffs, staring at the floor. Oh. Oh, no. Can’t… can’t have that. I scramble to find a condom in my bathroom drawer and start to brush past her to take her to the bed again. Damn. She’s gonna wear me out.

"Here," she says, grabbing my wrist, giving me that pleading look. She wraps my hand around her, and I hug her from behind. I can see her in the mirror. I can see all of her. I can’t help but watch as I kiss her neck. She lets her head fall over, letting me run my mouth over her neck and shoulder. 

I slide my hand up, tracing her rib cage.

She inhales, watching me in the mirror, meeting my eyes. This is different than last night. Last night was… was fun, and sweet. 

This is… this is feral. She almost scares me a little. But this is what I want. God, I want it. I trace the skin under her boob, not quite touching her, but I want it. Oh, I want this.

She whines, leaning into me. "Want it, want you."

“You wait a second,” I say insistently. “You gotta be patient.”

"No…" she pouts. "Want you. In me. Now."

I slip my hand over her, running my fingers over her nipple, and try to distract her for a moment. 

She bucks into me, looking to me again in the mirror, and she looks desperate. 

"Please," she begs. "Need you now, in me, in me, please, take me…"

I smile. I can’t help but laugh, but this is a chuckle I’ve never heard before. I reach my leg around hers, pushing her feet apart, and she complies, letting out a whimper. I press myself up against her, and I take myself in my hand, and I tease her, touching myself against her.

She devolves into whimpers and whines, begging messily, pleading. "Need, Tommy, in me, hard, baby," she whines.

I push into her, slowly, and place my hands on her hips for leverage. I look up and see myself in the mirror. I look different. I like it.

She shudders, taking me in. "Baby," she whimpers. "In, in, in, deeper."

I position myself behind her better, and push her legs a little further apart, and I push into her until there’s no room left.

She pants, nodding. "Full," she says, looking at me in the mirror. For the first time, I feel like I’m completely in control. This is a new feeling. This is an exciting feeling. I feel my heart thumping in my chest, and I suddenly want to thrust her to the speed of that heartbeat. 

But I do what she did last night and almost draw completely out of her.

She whines, trying to push herself back onto me, desperate. God. 

“Baby, you’re so damn desperate,” I say, and I’m almost shocked at the words coming out of my mouth. They sound so dirty all of a sudden. 

So I push myself back into her, slowly. I think I like this control. Yeah. I sink my fingertips into her waist, and I do it again, slowly, watching her face in the mirror.

She's whimpering, trying to get more of me, and there's tears streaming down her face.

"More," she begs.

“Why are you crying?” I ask, and I do it again. Actually, it’s time, I decide, and I start a slow, deep rhythm inside her. I like the feeling of me hitting her walls.

"More, more, more," she whimpers, trying to roll her hips up into me.

I slide my hands around her, almost picking her up to change my angle inside her, and I can’t help letting my hand slide down further, between her legs. She jolts into me, and the begging devolves into her desperate whines and noises. Yes. That’s what I want.

I realize I said that part out loud. There’s only one way for me to recover, so I get faster. 

She plants her hands on the counter, taking me in her, and she's making those noises, she can't even talk. 

Perfect. Yes. I pull her hair back to one side so I can kiss her neck again, and I find my other hand with a mind of its own slipping up to her boob again. Am I a boob guy? Definitely a boob guy. I roll her nipple in my fingertips, harder than I did before.

She's moaning, eyes slipping shut, and she's taking me. All of me, in her. Is it selfish to want more? I desperately want more. I can hear myself, slipping in and out of her, my own little noises mixing with hers. 

I bear down with my hands, and I speed up. I hope that’s what she wants. It’s what I want.

"Baby," she moans.

“Is that okay?” I say, between hard, deep thrusts. I want to be deep inside her. I want to make her moan more. I want her to yell. I want her voice to keep echoing through the bathroom.

"M-more!" She cries, trying to find a grip on the counter, and her hand slips down to her center. I wrap my arm around her, trying to get better leverage, and I’m gone. I don’t even know who I was before. She called me gentle. She called me kind. This is neither gentle nor kind. I want to fuck her, plain and simple.

She's whimpering, and those noises have given way into cries and mewling. "T-Tommy- gonna… Can I come?" She begs.

She… she’s asking me? For permission? Oh.  _ Oh. _ I nearly bite her shoulder, trying to hold off mine. 

“Only if I can,” I whisper in her ear.

She nods desperately. "Need it," she says, panting. "Please?"

“Do it,” I say. “Come for me, baby.”

She shudders and then I feel her clench around me, and she screams my name, sobbing as she shakes. 

And she sends me over. I clutch into her body, moaning into her shoulder, as I shudder-thrust through both of us. I’m panting. I’m pulsing. I feel it in my toes. And all I can hear is her. 

"Tommy, Tommy," I hear her whimper. She's leaning fully on the counter, and she can't even hold herself up. "Tommy."

I wipe her messy, sweaty hair from her face. “Was… was that good? Did you like that?"

She nods, still breathing. "So good," she says in a small voice. 

“You’re literally incoherent.”

"Like when you take charge," she whispers, sighing happily.

“N-noted. Noted. Got it,” I say, still not drawing out of her. I’m still shaking, as I look at the two of us, still together, in the mirror. 

She gazes at me in the mirror and sighs again. "Wanna be good for you, always."

“I didn’t know I could do that,” I say in a small voice. “Kinda liked…. kinda liked you being good for me.”

She meets my eyes and gives me a tired, beautiful smile, and it lights up her eyes.

"I love you, baby," she whispers. "Tommy, I love you."

“I love you, too, Kelley,” I say, kissing her shoulder, her neck again. I finally pull out of her, and kick the faucet on the shower. 

“Wanna join me?”

She nods eagerly, leaning on me. "Yes, please," she says, and she laughs, content.

I’m content, too, standing naked in front of her. Content and… confident, I think. Yeah. Confident. 


	50. I've had my run, baby, I'm done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett tries to work today, but it is not his day—a migraine hits and Dr. Lanik sends him home. But the only home available today is the Harlowe-Moore household, and Nurse Evie is there to monitor his condition.

_I'll be home tonight_

**April 10, 2020** **   
** **1408 Hours** **   
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center ** **   
** **Crockett**

This is not my day. 

Already managed to cross paths and clash with at least two coworkers, and I'm only three hours in. Any ED doc worth his salt knows, there is indeed a lunch rush of stupid.

I just need to sit down for a minute. I kick the stool over to the computer, and I log in so I can chart. 

I look up, and I smile at Maggie as she passes. 

She gives me a smile, a nod. “Didn’t know you could bowl, Crockett.”

I smile and shrug. "To be frank, Mags, neither did I. Glad I could be there."

“Some of us were very happy you were there,” she says, glaring at Natalie as she walks by. 

I keep the smile up, eyes on Maggie. "Well, thanks for invitin' me." My voice drops a bit lower. "I'm happy for you, Maggie," I say warmly.

“Oh, stop,” she chuckles. “Get back to work.”

I laugh a bit, turning back to the screen. 

Either this screen is on the blink, or my eyes are. 

I shake my head, trying to chart. After a bit I look away to the ED again, and I blink. 

No, no, no, not  _ now. _ Not at work. 

Still in the aura phase, just need to get my meds. 

I think I log out -like hell I need HIPAA coming after me, but at this second I'm more afraid of the pain. 

Locker. Open it. There's the bottle, and  _ there's  _ the pain. 

I take one, and lean my head against the cool metal. Caught it early, I should be okay. 

"Oh, fuck this," I mutter out loud. 

"Marcel, you good?" 

I look up to where Jim Lanik is standing at the door. 

"Hey," he says, moving closer. "You don't look too good." 

I gesture to my head. "Migraine decided today was a good day," I say vaguely, and he pushes me down to sit on the couch.

"Can I call anyone? Kelley, maybe?" 

"She's at work," I say, trying to think. "Kate and Mouse are away, and… Tom's at work, and I can't do that to the kid anyway, and…" 

I unlock my phone, passing it to him. I'm beyond trying to fight him to stay at work, it's not going to work. "Raelynn. Call her. I can… I can talk to her, just…" I drift off, digging my fingers into my eyes. 

Lanik nods, and then I hear him. "Hi, this Raelynn? I'm Jim, I'm calling off Marcel's phone. Putting you on speaker." He touches my hands, pulling them away from my face.

The voice that comes through isn't Raelynn’s. It’s Evie’s.

_ “Is Crockett okay?”  _ Her quiet, sweet voice comes through. 

Oh, God…

"Ev? Evie?" I say, and I can't… oh, hell. It's out now anyway. 

“ _ Do you need mama?” _ She says conversationally. 

"Yeah, darlin', I do, do you think you could get her for me?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even.

“One moment, please!” She says, and there’s a shuffling, and then Rae’s voice. 

“ _ Hey, Crockett, how are you?” _

"Hey, Rae," I say, and Lanik's pulling my hand away from my eyes again. "Do… do you think you could come get me? Sorry to bother you."

“ _ Of—of course! Are you alright?”  _ She says, panicked. “ _ Aren’t you at work?” _

I nod, forgetting she can't see it. "Yes, he's at work, but he needs to get home," Lanik says softly.

“ _ Oh, hello, _ ” she says. “ _ To whom am I speaking?” _

"James Lanik, ma'am, ED head, and I work with Crockett," he says. "If you could come get him, that'd be good. It's way too loud and busy for him here right now."

“ _ We’re already on our way,”  _ she says. “ _ Be there in about ten minutes.” _

"Thank you, Rae," I say softly.

“ _ Of course, love,” _ she says. 

Lanik speaks again. "I'm going to hang up and grab his bag, we'll meet you at the side staff entrance, alright?"

“ _ Perfect. Thank you, Dr. Lanik. Truly.” _

He slips my phone back into my hand, and then pulls my bag out, setting it beside my feet and closing my locker. 

"You been sleeping all right?" He asks, and I shrug. 

"Well enough," I reply. "Still waking up during the night."

He nods. "Need anything?"

I just shrug. Head hurts too much to keep talking.

He sighs, and then pulls me upright. "Let's get you that way, alright?" 

"Thanks, Jim," I say softly, and he just chuckles. "You and Kelley helped us. Let me help you, Marcel. Don't make me cut your hours again," he teases.

It's slow going, I'm so dizzy, but we make it to the doors. 

I can't help looking out, waiting. It doesn’t take long for Rae’s SUV to appear, and she leaves the car running, coming up to the side entrance. 

“Migraines again?” She whispers, taking my bag. 

I nod slowly, and smile at Lanik. "Thank you," I say softly, and he nods. 

"Let me know," he says, stepping back. 

I turn back to Rae, and God, I need to sit down. “C’mon,” she murmurs, leading me to the car. Once we’re both in, I hear a little voice from the backseat. 

“Hi, Crockett,” Evie almost stage-whispers. “Sorry ‘bout your noodle.”

I laugh, and I regret it, trying to brace my head with my hands. It's a moment before I can speak. 

"Thanks, kiddo," I manage.

“I will  _ try  _ not to make you laugh,” she whispers. Rae grins, looking to me, and shrugs. 

“I’m sorry,” she mouths. 

I smile a bit. "It's okay," I mouth back. 

I think briefly about laying my head on the window, but that's a quick way to wish for certain death.

I just lean back into the seat the entire time, almost dozing. Before I realize it, Evie is touching my hand, saying “time to go home, Crockett” in a quiet voice.

I blink, and I stare at her for a moment. 

"Okay," I say quietly, but I'm not quite sure where I'm going. Evie just takes my hand and leads me to the couch. Oh. We’re back at their apartment. 

I slowly sit down, and all I can feel is my head throbbing. I need to… eyes closed. Eyes closed, try and block out the noise.

I hear light breathing. 

“Evie, leave him alone,” Rae quietly chides. 

I open my eyes, and she's right there, and I expected her but I'm still startled.

“Crockett,” she whispers. “Can I get you a cold cloth?”

I hear Rae’s snort of laughter.

I smile at Evie. I love her, so much. 

"Sure, darlin', I'd love one," I say softly. She runs off, and I close my eyes again. I hear her footsteps once more.

“Crockett, I’m back,” she whispers. “Gonna put it on your head now.”

"Okay, honey, thanks for the warning," I say, and it's so blessedly cool.

I sigh, and the pain doesn't ease, but it levels out. I open an eye, smiling at her, blurry though she is.

"Merci, darlin' girl," I whisper.

“I’ll be over here,” she whispers. “Reading. If you need me, okay?”

"Thanks, honey," I say, and I close my eyes again. Stay still. Just stay still, roughly ten, twelve hours you'll be fine. Just breathe. 

"How are you two?" I whisper, barely out loud.

“Hey, we’re fine,” Rae says. “How did this all happen?”

Evie shushes her mother. “Quiet, mama. Gotta be quiet.”

I chuckle a bit; Evie's such a sweet girl. And funny, even when she doesn't mean to be. "Just migraines. Stress and lack of sleep combined," I say. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Evie asks innocently.

Well, you've stepped in it now, Marcel. 

"Just busy, sweetheart," I say. "Work and paperwork." 

“You should be less busy,” she says, flipping the page of her book. I can see it. It’s the  _ Penderwicks. _

I smile a bit, and then shut my eyes again as the pain hits. 

I can't help curling up, and I sigh. 

“You should sleep, Crockett,” she whispers. Rae just sighs. 

“Let him go,  _ la petite chou.” _

* * *

I wince, opening my eyes after my neck cramps. 

I blink. This is… not my living room. This is… I'm at Raelynn and Evie's. 

I look up, still a bit dizzy as I sit up.

“Crockett, do you feel any better?” Evie whispers. She’s….. she’s moved. She’s on the other side of the couch now.

"Little bit, darlin'," I say, and the edge is off my migraine. The pain is still there, but this time, it's just this side of bearable. 

I smile a bit. "You're still here," I say.

“Of course I am,” she says matter-of-factly. “Mama’s working. I told her I would stay and watch you.” 

I smile. "I appreciate it, Ev." 

I stretch an arm out for her to come closer. She literally drops her book to the floor and crawls over. 

I pull her close, and I sigh. "Thank you, honey. I appreciate you."

She settles into me, and she sighs. “If you were less busy, you could hang out with me more, and you wouldn’t have headaches,” she says, with wisdom past her years. 

I chuckle. "Hmm. You're right, I think. I wish I wasn't so busy." I go quiet.

“Then don’t be,” she says simply. 

"Not that easy, my dear," I say, voice quiet.

She snuggles into me. “I wish it was. I want to go the aquarium and mama won’t take me. If you weren’t so busy we could go.”

"When I can stand up without falling over, we'll go, okay?" I say, chuckling just a bit, pulling her close.

“Mama is scared of fish,” she says conspiratorially. 

From her bedroom, I hear Rae call, “It is called ichthyophobia and it is a legitimate fear, thank you!”

I laugh, and then sigh, closing my eyes again. "Have to stop laughing like that."

“Sorry, Crockett,” she says, but she just snuggles in closer. “How are you?”

"I'm alright," I say. I think. "Head hurts. I'll be fine."

“Do you want some tea?” She asks, looking up to me with those big brown eyes. 

I smile a bit, and I'd do anything for her. 

"Sure, I'd love some."

She slides off the couch, runs to Rae’s bedroom. I hear her little voice. “Mama, can I make some tea?”

“Yes, my dear, I’ll be right out to help. Can you fill the pot?”

“I’ll get it started,” she says, heading out. I hear Rae’s louder voice. 

“Just wait for me to get out there before you turn it on!”

“But  _ I  _ want to make it.”

“That’s fine, I will simply supervise.”

“That’s fair.”

Rae heads out of her room, bypasses me and checks the kitchen before I feel her hand on mine. 

“How are you feeling?”

I smile at her, and I'm so tired. 

"Head is a bit better than earlier," I whisper. "Sleeping took the edge off of it. Like I said, lack of sleep and stress."

She touches a hand to my face. “Hopefully Evie isn’t adding to it. She refused to leave your side, you know.”

She looks over me, squinting at the kitchen.

“Crockett, what kind of tea do you want?”

Rae just smiles. 

"Whatever you think I'd like, honey!" I call, and then rub my eyes. "She's fine," I say to Rae, and I lean into her hand. 

She kisses me lightly, so lightly she’s barely there. “Let me check my child and the stove.”

There’s a bit of a commotion, and the pot nearly threatens to scream, but Rae gets it off the stove quickly enough. 

“I didn’t know if he wanted milk and sugar,” Evie whispers. 

“Why don’t you ask him,” Rae whispers back. 

"Little bit of both," I say, just loud enough for them to hear, and I chuckle, leaning my head down on my arm again.

The next thing I hear is clearing of a throat, and when I open my eyes, Evie stands in front of me, holding a cup of tea in both hands.

“It’s hot,” she whispers. “And it’s chamomile. Mama uses it to help her sleep.”

I reach out, both hands, I'm not steady enough for one, and I take it gently. "Merci, Ev," I say. 

I take a sip, and I smile at her. 

“De rien,” she says, picking her book off from the floor. I feel Rae’s hands on my shoulders as Evie heads off to her room. 

“That child,” she murmurs.

I lean into Rae's hands, feeling the warmth of the cup in my hands. 

“I think she’s officially decided she wants to be a doctor, and I blame you,” she whispers, kissing me on the cheek.

"My sincerest condolences," I whisper back, setting the cup down and reaching up for her. She leans down and hugs me from behind.

“I’m sorry you have been suffering all day, but I have to admit, I like having you here.”

"I like being here," I admit. "Come, sit." 

She slides over the top of the couch like a teenager.

I pull her closer, sighing. 

“Evie is right, you know,” she says. “You work too much. All these long hours… they’re not good for you.”

"I've cut back on the hours," I say quietly. "I just… it's more not sleeping than anything else."

“I wish I could help,” she whispers. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

I shrug. "It's a'right, Rae, it's just I…" I sigh. "Yeah." There are some things she doesn't need to know. I lay my head on her shoulder, and I just enjoy being here.

She gently pulls me down to her lap, and just starts brushing back my hair. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” she murmurs.

I let my eyes shut, and I smile up at her. Yes. Yes, I think I'm home.


	51. Don't threaten me with a good time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kate starts to piece together the relationship status of Kelley and Raz, but her detective work is cut short when they realize at hockey practice, they don’t have a full team. But with Crockett lurking in the shadows, Kate decides it’s time to call him to the rink, and she comes to regret that. And although Kate and Crockett finally get to have that tilly she’s wanted all along, other facts come to light that forces Crockett to make a quick decision.

_ It's a hell of a feeling though  _

**April 12, 2020** **   
** **2012 Hours** **   
** **Johnny’s Ice House East** **   
** **Kate**

Something is definitely wrong with Raz. 

I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s definitely different. He’s pacing on the ice, but he’s more deliberate about his actions. 

I whistle to Mouse. He skates over to me. “‘Sup?”

“What’s wrong with the boy.”

He glances to Raz, squinting, as he does a pirouette, much to Kelley’s glee. 

“Oh, yeah, I know this look. Boy got laid.”

“What—what?!  _ What?! _ Kelley!  _ Kelley!” _

She looks up and waves. "Yeah?"

“C’mere. Now,” I snap my fingers.

She glances to Raz, then skates over. "Yeah, Kate?"

I pull her close. Real close. Mouse even makes a weird face.

“You fuck that boy?”

She glances to Mouse and drawls out, "I don't bang married men, Kate." With that she ducks low, skating away from me.

“Hey! Hey, come back here! I will yell it across this rink!”

She stops, and then flat tires. Raz immediately heads over and picks her up, drops a kiss on her cheek, and then just keeps skating. 

“I’ll get my answers somehow,” I say, skating over to where Crockett lurks. 

He watches me, wary. "What do you want, Kate?" he asks tiredly.

“Hey, man, I know it’s an ice rink, but why the cold shoulder, my dude?”

"What do you mean?"

“You’re tired. You don’t say ‘what do you want, Kate’ like that when you’re not tired. I need you on your A game, buddy.”

He shakes his head, chuckling. "Okay, you found me out. What do you want, Kate?" He says, voice sweet as he leans on the boards.

“What do you know about Kelley’s schedule this past week?” I ask just as sweetly.

"I know she worked Friday," he says thoughtfully. "She spent the day with Tommy on… on Wednesday. She…" he looks at me, almost panicked. "She didn't come home Wednesday night, said she was hanging out with him, Kate, she…" he sets his jaw. "They screwed, didn't they," he says. It's not a question. 

I squint at Raz. For the first time this evening, he looks over to the two of us and completely flat tires like Kelley.

“Yo!” I hear AK call out. “Anyone see Howie today?”

I shake my head, and there’s a slight negative vibe that goes through the team. 

“Can’t practice without another center,” he says. 

I slowly turn back, smiling at Crockett.

His eyes go wide. "Kate," he says cautiously. "What are you thinking?"

“You played forward, didn’t you?” I ask sweetly.

"Twenty years ago," he hisses. "That was  _ high school. _ "

“But you know what you’re doing,” I say. “Crockett, c’mon.”

“Come play with us, dude!” Mouse calls.

"I don't have gear," Crockett protests.

“Got plenty!” Mouse crows. “What size skates?”

"Twelve," he mutters, glaring at me. "This is a bad idea."

“Oh, you scared?” I say. I taunt. “You don’t think you could go up against little ol’ me? Don’t think you could square up against this hot piece?”

“Play with us!” Mouse calls again. “Play with me in the space!”

"A'right, fine! I'll play. AK, that good with you?" He says, looking over to him.

“You’ve watched long enough, you know how our team works. Besides, Howie’ll be back eventually.”

"Thank God," I hear Crockett mutter under his breath. 

“Raz, help me get him some gear,” Mouse calls out, and I don’t know which thing I’m more curious about today: whether Raz and Kelley got it on, or how good Crockett will be on the ice.

I stare at Crockett. “You ready for this?”

"Not even close." 

* * *

I’m already making pigeon noises by the time Crockett gets onto the ice. I can’t help it. He’s wearing my Bobby Hull practice jersey, and he looks displeased. 

“Hey, baby, fancy meeting you here,” I say, pacing in front of the faceoff. “Lookin’ mighty fine in my practice jersey, you gonna bring the heat, or are you gonna make it easy? Huh?”

“Need I remind you of the no chirping at practice policy, Kaitlyn,” AK mutters.

Crockett just stares at me, an easy smile on his face. "Oh, baby, I don't make things easy, ever."

“You stole my husband and my best friend in this practice run,” I say, getting into position. “This ain’t gonna be easy for anyone.”

“For fucks sake, Tilly, can you ever chill?” Dags mutters. 

I point at him. “We’re still fighting, you can shut your fuckin’ mouth.”

Crockett just smiles at him. "Listen here, man, the only reason I picked you is to let Tilly have  _ somethin'.  _ If she loses, at least she can get a consolation prize by servin' your sorry ass on a silver platter."

An amused shudder slips through the team. They’ve seen Crockett at practices and at games, and they’ve heard his chirps and yells to the refs, but the way he looks at me like the cat had caught the canary makes me wonder if I’m in trouble.

I slam my stick against the ice tauntingly. “Haven’t lost a game since 2016. Don’t plan on it now.”

AK readies the face off.

Crockett pulls up, and he just watches me, his eyes following every move. 

“You realize if provoked, I’m gonna fight, right?”

"Oh, that's cute," he says, examining his stick. "Look forward to seein' that."

“Hopefully we’ll get into it, so Mouse’ll have something to jack off to later.”

“Enough!” AK says, and he drops the puck.

Crockett snatches it, moving past me, laughing. Oh, fuck me. This is not going well, and we’re about two seconds in. 

I haul ass after the motherfucker. He’s headed for Edger already, but Edger’s so huge, I don’t know if he’ll be able to get one past him. 

Crockett tries to pass to AK, because Raz is coming hard for him, and Raz barely stops fast enough not to ram into him.

“Sorry, Dr. Marcel!” 

Crockett sends it off, then slides around Raz quickly. "Don't worry, kid, I'm just sorry I didn't pick you first!"

“Thanks, Dr. Marcel!” Raz calls after him. 

“Get on your fuckin’ A Game, Razmataz!” I screech, barreling towards AK at full speed. He passes to Dags. Jesus Christ, why can’t I kick this in the ass?

“Murf, nail him!” I cry out, and he just rams right into Dags. Finally, some good fucking content. I snatch the puck, and start heading for Mouse. 

“Hey, baby!” I call out in a sweet voice. 

“Not gonna work!” He deadpans. I deke it, and I know his weak point, and it goes in. 

“Ha-HA!” I say in Crockett’s face as I nearly run into him. “You lucky fuck. You better be happy Raz is so intimidated by you.”

He pushes forward, getting in my face. "I'll go easy on the boy. Not you." He just laughs.

“Hey, N’awlins,” I say, trying to make myself taller so I can look him in the eye. “You wanna have one? You’ve seen me fight. I’ll knock you six ways to Sunday.”

"How precious, like a lil' puppy, yappin' for attention," he drawls, staring back at me. "If you need help takin' your gloves off, just let me know."

“God damn,” I breathe. “You are just so Goddamn hot when you act like this.”

He snorts. "I hear noises, like a junior leaguer. What you doin' out here?"

“Will you two _shove_ _it_ and take the faceoff?” AK yells. 

“Hey, N’awlins,” I say, skating backwards. “Just remember who just scored a point on her husband. I have no problem gettin’ a Gordie Howe in a practice game. And baby? I’m comin’ for you.”

Crockett winks at AK. "Woah-ho, look who's here, it's the fun police. Looks like dad wants us to slam some rubber."

“AK, I swear to God, I’ve been tryin’ to slam this asshole for a good year now. Wait. No. That’s not what I meant. Oh, fuck this,” I say, and I start pulling off my gloves. 

Raz immediately swoops in, picks up my gloves and shoves them into my chest. 

“I’m not gonna let you two fight,” he says, looking from me to Crockett and back. “Not gonna happen, alright?”

“Why the  _ fuck _ not?” I snarl. 

“It’s like my mom and dad are going to have a brawl, and I don’t like it. Stop it. Go to the dot.”

I scan Raz for a second, then squint. “Who  _ are _ you? Crockett, do you know who this is?”

He smiles pleasantly at Raz, then leans in and whispers, "Yeah. The guy who screwed my little sister." He winks at Raz, and steps back, pleased.

I’m waiting for Raz to be horrified, I’m waiting for that embarrassed look, but it doesn’t come. 

“So what if I did?” He says, skating backwards. 

I look at Crockett, I look at Raz, I look at Kelley, I look at Mouse.

“Am I in the  _ fucking _ Twilight Zone?!”

* * *

I lean on my knees, trying to catch my breath. What the fuck is going on. I hate this. I’m getting too old for this shit. Crockett is schooling me in front of  _ my _ team! Mine! He was so hesitant before, and now he’s like...the king of the Castle! I even heard AK call him N’awlins! That was mine! 

At any rate, I am livid. I am seething. 

And with a pass to Dags, Crockett gets a point up on me. 

Two to three. How could this happen to me? 

I can’t lose my streak. Well, if I lose my streak, at least it would be to Crockett.

Wait, no. That’s the  _ worst _ idea. He will be  _ inconsolable. _ There will be no living with him after this. 

I head back to the faceoff, and this time, I just get into position. No chirps. No digs.

He just smiles at me. "What, no whinin'? I actually get some peace and quiet for once."

“Actually, can we… can we call for a time out?” I gesture to AK. I shake my head at Crockett.

“I’ll be back to give you hell, I just need a minute, okay?”

Crockett whistles twice, just squinting at me as he skates backward, and leans on the net.

Kelley's beside me in a heartbeat. "You okay?"

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” I say, straightening and using my stick as support. “I don’t think that trying to do the Spring LTX and come home and immediately go to a hockey practice was a good idea. I’m just really tired, and I’m gettin’ a little dizzy. I’ll be fine. I just need a second.”

“It’s not because we’re kickin’ your ass, is it, Tilly-Willy?” Dags starts in.

“Hey, man, not cool,” Raz says.

“Yo, dude, when did your balls drop?” Dags cuts back.

"Dags, you assface,  _ my  _ balls dropped harder and sooner than yours," Kelley snorts.

“Guys, please,” I say, but of course, no one listens to me when I’m trying to  _ stop _ a fight.

Dags just eggs them on. “I’m sure you know all about  _ his _ balls.”

Kelley just crosses her arms. "What, you jealous? I know enough about yours, which is they're gonna be kicked in if you don't shut the hell up."

Dags turns to Raz, and AK finally just gives up trying to call order. “So now you got your girlfriend fightin’ all your fights for you?” He pushes him with one hand.

“There was a  _ reason _ for the no chirping policy!” AK tries.

Kelley just shoves Dags with both hands.

“Seriously?” Dags starts. “I swear, the women on this team are more fuckin’ bloodthirsty than the dudes! What is it with you broads?”

Kelley just smiles sweetly at him. "It's because we lose so much on a regular basis, so we require a sacrifice to make up for it."

“Is that her excuse for shitty playing, then?” He gestures towards me. “You on the rag or something?”

All my anger has turned from Crockett to Dags.

“I swear to God, Dags, I’m gonna run ya.”

“Come at me, if you think you could take me.”

It’s happening before I even realize it. Someone throws a hard right hook in Dags’ face, and it’s… it’s  _ Raz.  _ His gloves are on the ice. How the hell did he take them off so fast? Dags tries to fight back, tries to get a hit on Raz, but Raz completes a one-two punch and Dags slides onto the ice. Raz, against all hockey archetype though, doesn’t go after him again. Instead, he uses his stick as a pointer. 

“You have made fun of me for  _ years! _ ” He calls out. The team is silent. This is… where’s the popcorn? This is a fucking show at this point. “You have made me feel like shit, and I’m sick of everyone else hitting you when it should have been me!”

“Guys, is anyone else a little hot for Raz right now?” Murf says under his breath. 

“What the fuck happened to him?” Kilts murmurs. “Tilly, do you know?”

I shrug. “I think the boy just finally found his confidence,” I say, winking at Kelley.

She just smiles at Raz, like he's holding the stars. 

With the calmness of a yoga instructor, Raz picks up his gloves and slips them back on. We’re all a little shellshocked, but I guess the time out is over, and holy shit. 

I can’t help but smile. The two most childlike people I know got together and they’re… they’re growing up. 

“Damn, girl,” I whisper to Kelley. “You must have done a number on that boy.”

"I think the score is tied, in that respect," she says back.

“Keep it that way!” I call, heading to the faceoff with new life and breath. “Always keep it that way.”

* * *

Two to three. Still. I cannot get a read on Crockett. He tells me he hasn’t played since high school, and he’s about to kick my ass. Not to brag, but I’ve been called the best in the league. 

He’s a fucking trauma surgeon from New Orleans, and he’s a damn ringer.

There’s part of me, as I scan the ice, that is enjoying the fact he’s kicking my ass. I don’t mind him having this one. He needs a win or two. Even if it’s a literal win. 

I’m still not going to make it easy on him. 

We only have a minute or so left in the game, so it’s time that I live up to my name, as Crockett zips closer to me with the puck. 

Oh,  _ beautiful. _

I get into his trajectory, and luckily Murf blocks the only other shot Crockett can make. 

This is going to be glorious. 

I board him, spin, and steal the puck from under him.

He swears, and pushes off the boards, coming for me. I quickly pass it to Laser, because this one might hurt if he’s not stopping, and I don’t think he’s stopping.

“Oh, you wanna fight now, big boy?” I call out. “All I gotta do is get Mouse to use his drill sergeant voice, and you’re fuckin’ butter, my dude.”

"Try me, Tilly, I'm beginnin' to think you glued your gloves on after earlier!"

I look to Mouse, but he’s just blocked the puck, and the clock’s run out. 

Two to three.

First loss since I joined the fucking team.

Crockett just gets the biggest smile, and he pumps his fist in the air.

“I’m gonna turn you into a fuckin’ Bop It,” I say, dropping my stick and pulling off my gloves.

He does the same, and he just gets a look in his eye as he comes at me.

Before we collide, I hear a roaring “Yessss!” come from Mouse’s crease.

I grab for his jersey—well, mine—and throw a punch.

He takes it, and he looks almost  _ feral  _ as he returns it, and an extra thrown in.

I ditch my helmet. It’s just getting in the way. 

“I swear to God, N’awlins, I’ll slow cook you like you’re a creole gumbo.” 

He tosses his helmet, and I can see him just grin, and it's wicked. "Somethin' you need to know, Tilly, I wasn't just a forward, I was the enforcer too," he says, and his fist is flying at me again.

I grab for him to hold still, but I take one of his punches, and damn, does it actually kinda feel good. 

“Coulda fooled me with those hands of yours,” I say. “What, afraid to hurt your little moneymakers?”

"Been twenty years but I can still kick your ass, sew you up, and kick your ass again!" He nails me, laughing hysterically. 

“Fuckin’ scrappy, aren’t you, N’awlins?” I say, laughing back.

"Always, but you're one to talk, Full Tilt Tilly," he snarks, and then he shoves me  _ hard,  _ boarding me and almost lifting me off my feet.

I’m suddenly seeing stars. When he lets me go, I drop to my hands and knees, out of breath suddenly, and I’m trying to breathe.

"Kate," he gasps, dropping down in front of me. "Kate, I'm sorry, look at me, darlin'."

“I’m good, Crockett, I’m good,” I breathe, although the nausea is coming for me like a forgotten friend. I thought I got over that this week. Apparently getting conked doesn’t help. 

I try to breathe through it as I struggle to my skates.

"Kate, hey, here," he says, moving closer and slipping his arm around my waist. "Talk to me, Kate."

“Get me to the locker room, now,” I mutter.

He doesn't even say anything, just hauling me there. I barely make it to the toilet before I’m puking. 

“Goddamn it!” I yell, leaning against the stall and wiping my mouth. Mouse appears next to Crockett, looking increasingly worried.

"Kate, talk to me," Crockett says again. "Tell me what's goin' on?"

“She’s been feelin’ off the last couple days,” Mouse says. “Probably just jarred her a little. We were off in the wilderness the whole weekend, too, and she can’t relax at all when we’re doin’ that anymore, so.”

“I’m a fuckin’ mess, Crockett,” I say, leaning over the toilet. “Goddamn, I hate puking.”

He rubs a hand on my back, and he looks worried. "I shouldn't have boarded you, Kate, I'm sorry."

“No, man, no, that was awesome,” I chuckle. “I didn’t know you were so damn good! Beat my streak!”

He blushes. He actually  _ blushes.  _ "It's been a few years. I wasn't lyin' when I said I was the enforcer."

“I just watched my brother and wife have a tilly on the ice,” Mouse deadpans. “She’s come onto me wearing nothing but that damn corset, and that fight? Hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

Crockett scoffs, closing Mouse's mouth with his hand, looking to me. "Should I bring you in?" He asks softly.

“Nah, I just need some sleep and some real food and not damn Gen Zers with attitude problems,” I grumble. I think I’m done puking, but I puke with my whole body, so I wave at them to help me stand back up. 

As Crockett helps pull me up, he looks at me seriously. "I have one question," he says, and his eyebrows are almost knit together. 

“Shoot,” I say. “Hopefully your shootin’ here is better than on the ice, N’awlins.” I make myself laugh.

"First, I was wonderin' what that garbage smell was, but turns out it's just your aim," he retorts. Mouse is laughing so hard at this point, he’s silently wheezing. "Second, is Dagney always this much of an asshole?"

“Didn’t used to be,” I harrumph, as the rest of the team start coming into the locker room. “That fourth divorce really got ya, didn’t it, buddy?”

“Second,” he says emphatically. “Two divorces, Tilly. Two.”

“Surprises me you’d find two separate women to marry you,” I retort.

“Surprises me you could find one,” he says, gesturing his middle finger to Mouse. 

“Oh, I’m gonna kill him,” Mouse mutters.

And with a growl, Crockett's pinned Dags to the lockers, and there's a clang as his skates hit the metal. Crockett's lifted him off the ground, and he's glaring at him. 

"Listen here," he snarls. "I've put up with a lot from you. You've insulted my family, and I'm fuckin' up to here with your sorry ass. I'm shocked no one's actually belted your dumb face, because your mouth is runnin' way off course. You can either shut the hell up and keep your damn mouth shut on the subject of my family, or you can taste a good old New Orleans backalley brawl. Fo you understand me, or do you need me to say it again?"

The damn locker room is silent. I’ve never heard it this quiet. Mouse leans over and whispers in my ear.

“I know you don’t feel good, but can we go fuck in the bathroom? This is really hot.”

“No, not now, I gotta see how this ends,” I say, slapping his roving hands away.

“Fuck this,” Dags says, trying to wrench himself from Crockett’s grip. “I’m done with this team.” He looks at AK angrily. “You can’t get this team under control. I’m out. I’m done.”

Crockett drops him, and shoves him into the bank of lockers opposite, crossing his arms. Dags just rips the jersey from his back, dramatically takes off his skates and pads, and leaves the locker room.

And then the entire team looks to Crockett. 

AK is the first to start applauding. 

Crockett's brain stops, I can see that from here. "Listen," he starts. "I'm sorry about that, he got on my nerves and I shouldn't have gotten back."

“We’ve hated that guy since Day One,” Goop says. “Almost six years, and we haven’t been able to get rid of him. Between you and… and Raz, we finally gaslighted him out.”

“Wanna take his place?” AK says. 

Crockett looks to me.

“Dude, you’ve been saying you don’t take enough time for yourself,” Mouse says, giving him a wide smile. “Come play with me,” he whispers.

But I can’t say anything. I’m just nodding. I can’t stop nodding. And Crockett searches my face. 

And then he turns to AK, and nods. 

"I'm in, if you'll have me."

I’m practically in tears. I fight the headache, and the nausea. Finally. It took a fuckin’ year, but we snagged him. And then I see Kelley. 

She's beaming, and launches herself into his arms. "I get to give you more heart attacks! Tommy, he's ours now!"

Raz just pulls her into a deep embrace, and kisses her long and hard in front of the rest of the rejoicing team. 

And not one person makes fun of him.


	52. My reputation follows me around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Game night starts with a confrontation: where the hell did Crockett and Kate get those war wounds? Crockett is surprised when Tommy presents him with his team jersey, and the Harlowe-Moores realize they need to get into a new sport. But as the night goes on, and the games become more adult, Crockett and Rae make plans for their future—in not the way that one would think.

_ ** Just makes me wanna give 'em more to talk about ** _

**April 13, 2020** **   
** **1822 Hours** **   
** **1020 S. Wabash Ave. Apt. 7G, Chicago** **   
** **Crockett**

I look at Kelley, who's bounding down the hall, and I sigh. I know she and Evie met already, and they hit it off and got things done, but somehow I can't help but wondering if the two of them will usher in the apocalypse. 

Either way, I know that I'll have explaining to do when I walk in, and when Kate walks in. God, need to check on Kate. 

"Kelley, slow the hell down. Calm down."

I grab the back of her shirt as she eyes the hallway walls, and I knock first, then start in with my key.

I hear yelling from the other side of the door. It’s incoherent, but it’s definitely Evie, and it sounds like it might be my name.

I push open the door, and pull Kelley in before she can spiderman the wall. "Don't be stupid, she's a kid," I remind her quietly before turning to Evie with a smile.

“Crockett Crockett Crockett Crockett—” I hear before she slams into my legs and it becomes muffled.

Rae brushes her hair back, panting, laughing. 

“She… that child… she’s so damn hyper, and I blame you two. Hi, Kelley!”

"Hi Raelynn," Kelley laughs, hugging her. 

I drop to my knees so I can look Evie in the eye. "Hey, darlin', how are you?" I ask, poking her nose.

“What happened to your lip?” She asks, tilting her head. 

"I ran into someone," I say, not looking away from Evie as Kelley snorts.

Evie peers at it. “Can’t you fix it?”

Rae comes up behind her and tilts her head in concern.”Yeah, Crockett, what the hell happened?”

"Language in front of the kids, honey," I tease. "Relax, I ran into somebody." Yeah, somebody's fist. Did I say that out loud? I hope not.

Apparently, I didn’t, but Rae does the next best thing and turns to Kelley. “What really happened?”

"He ran into someone's fist," she beams.

Damn it, Kelley. 

“What?!” Rae exclaims, then goes back to the door and opens it in response to incessant knocking. 

“Hey, guys!” Kate calls out. Oh my God. She’s got a black eye.

Raelynn looks from Kate to me and back again. 

I'm up and at Kate's side in seconds. "I'm sorry about the eye," I whisper. "I didn't mean to do that."

Kate just kisses me on the cheek. “It was the best Goddamn thing to happen this year.”

"Language," I say, exasperated. "Stop teaching my kid your filthy words."

Rae finally kisses me. “She can be your kid when she’s this hyper,” she says, heading back to the kitchen.

I just laugh, looking at Evie. She nearly bounces to me. “I got into the cookies,” she whispers, but her whisper is not quiet.

I swing her up in my arms, and dangle her upside down, laughing. "I see that."

She just lets out a shriek. “Kelley, save me! Kelley, help!”

Kelley giggles, shaking her head. "Nope, just tickle him and he's gotta let go. He's very ticklish," she says in a stage-whisper.

"No," I tell Kelley, and then look at Evie. "No. No. Don't even think about it."

She squints at me, but doesn’t make a move to do it.

“But I know now,” she says. “I know, Crockett. I know.”

Kate busts out laughing and follows Rae to the kitchen, asking if she needs help. Mouse makes an attempt to rescue Evie.

"Sometimes you scare me, Ev," I say, twirling her up onto my shoulders.

“Don’t you forget it,” she whispers in my ear. 

“Pizzas should be here soon,” Rae says. “Games are on the coffee table. Hey, Kelley, is Raz coming?”

Kelley lights up. "Yeah, he's on the way!" I make a face, groaning. "Gross," I tease her.

“So, does anyone want to tell me exactly how you two ended up wounding each other?” Rae asks, handing the Gerwitzes drinks and slipping her hands onto her hips.

I freeze. "What makes you think we wounded each other?" I ask innocently. 

“Black eye, split lip. The slightly vacant look on Mouse’s face as he apparently remembers what happened.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he says. 

"It's completely fair," I say. "I ran into Kate's fist, she ran into mine. Her husband has a dirty mind, that's not my problem."

“But you’re missing the point,” Rae starts, but Evie finishes. 

“But why did you fight?” She asks innocently. 

Oh yes. 

"Hockey," I shrug. "First time I've played in twenty years."

“How did that go for you?” Rae giggles. “I’ve heard about you and your methods,” she says, pointing at Kate. 

“He started it,” she says. 

" _ I  _ started it?" I say, turning back to Kate. "I started it. What are you, ten?"

“No, otherwise I would be a child bride, shut up!”

“Why are you fighting when you play hockey?” Evie asks, and Mouse starts losing it. 

"It's a somewhat safe, controlled environment for otherwise mature adults to channel their everyday stress and frustration into a semi-productive pastime," I tell her seriously.

She looks back down the stacks and games and says, “I think I would like hockey.”

“You can watch it, but like hell are you playing it,” Rae says. “Someone pick a game before my kid decides to play hockey like…” she scans the room. “Like all of you,  _ shit.” _

Rae heads back to the door and opens it for Raz. 

“Welcome to the nut house.”

"Tommy!" Kelley calls, blowing a kiss, but I'm not letting Raelynn get off that easy.

"Language, Rae. You're teaching our kid bad words again," I tease.

“Oh, she’s our kid now?” She says with a wink.

"She's only half hyper now, so yeah," I shrug.

Kelley's losing it, and I just glare at her. 

And smile at Tommy. "Hey, man, good to see you."

“Hey, Crockett!” He says, and he tosses me something. “Got a present for you. Kelley made it happen so quick.”

I raise an eyebrow. "Should I be concerned? Does she want what's in my will already?"

I hold up the green…  _ Oh my God.  _ The hockey jersey says “Marcel” on the back. 32.

Kate is already wheezing. 

I'm beaming. "I love it," I whisper, staring at it. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

“Oh no. You’ve joined the team, haven’t you?” Rae says, the shock slipping into her voice. 

I grin. "Right forward, darlin'."

Her face goes blank. “Well. I wondered when this was going to happen. Evie and I are gonna have to get into hockey, aren’t we?”

“Do we get to see you fight?” Evie says excitedly. 

Oh. Oh, dear. Too late now, I guess.

"Maybe," I say, winking at Kate.

“I wanna see you fight,” Evie says under her breath. 

“This kid,” Kate says, pointing at her, “Mouse, I want one like her.”

“I can hear you, you know,” Evie says. 

I start laughing. "Tell her, Ev. Keep her on her toes."

Tommy kneels down beside Evie and starts helping her look through the games, while Kate and Mouse help Rae with the pizza as it seems like she ordered half the store. 

“Well, what do you like to play?” Tommy asks her, and she sighs, almost distressed.

“Well,  _ I _ like One Night Ultimate Werewolf, but mama gets mad because I’m too good,” she whispers to him. “I think she wants to play Fake Artist Goes to New York.”

I sit back, watching Tommy and Evie, and then I shift my eyes to Kelley, who's watching the two, and her eyes are wide. She looks… she looks happy, and she looks like he's the sun. 

She looks like she loves him. Well. There may be another wedding in our little crew's future. 

Evie just sighs, and Tommy pulls her into his lap as he sits on the floor. “Okay, tell me about this fake artist game.”

She draws a breath. “Well. You just need a big piece of paper, really. And someone picks a category, and they write that word on a bunch of paper, and one of the papers has an X. And then everyone picks a paper, and someone doesn’t know what they’re drawing, so the point of the game is that at the end of two rounds, you have to guess who was the fake. The one who didn’t know what you were supposed to be drawing. But you also can’t pick your marker off the paper. Mama’s really good at it, and she doesn’t want you to know.”

“Oh, is she now?” Tommy whispers, “Maybe we should play it and see what she’s workin’ with.”

I chuckle, and Kelley looks like she wants to… For the love of Pete, Kelley. Don't want to see that.

I just watch Evie, and she looks happy. 

I'm happy.

“Tommy, can we go get some pizza?” She whispers.

“Absolutely,” he says, picking her up and putting her on her feet. When he bounces to his, he finally makes eye contact with Kelley.

“What?”

She just smiles at him, and I have to look away. 

"Tommy, just… I love you," she whispers.

He just smiles at her and kisses her. “Love you too.”

* * *

“Evie’s the fake,” Kate says, shaking her head.

“She’s successfully manipulating you!” Rae cries, pointing at her daughter. Our daughter? My daughter. I don’t know at this point.

Evie just smiles at Kate. 

“You’re  _ eight!” _ Kate hisses. “I do not understand.”

“She’s smart, what can I say?” Rae says, smirking. 

“Raz is the fake,” Mouse says, shaking his head. “Boy can’t lie.”

“It ain’t me,” he confirms. 

I just beam at Evie, and I'm suddenly proud of her. She winks at me.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey!” Kate says, pointing at her. “She winked at Crockett!”

I just laugh and point to Kelley, who glares at me, shaking her head. "Stop, don't look at me," she hisses.

“Okay, okay, fine, count of three, point at who you think it is,” Mouse says, cutting it off. “One, two—”

At three, we point. 

I point at Kelley, Kelley points at me.

I look at Tommy for help. He’s pointing at Kelley. Evie points at me, while the Gerwitzes have banded together to attack Kelley.

Kelley squeals, and I just smirk. And I wink at Evie. 

“Who was it?” Mouse says. “Time for someone to fess up.”

I sigh. "Me."

Kate throws her marker down on the table and just storms off. 

“I think it’s time for someone’s bed time,” Rae says, and Evie giggles. “And I don’t mean Kate’s.”

I just lean back, laughing, and I smile at Evie. 

“I should probably go to bed,” she says simply, climbing off her chair and going around the table giving hugs. When she gets to me, she crawls upon to my lap.

I hug her back, a kiss on her head. "You caught me out, darlin'... good for you. Have a good sleep, honey."

She toddles off, yawning, and Kate drops another box onto the table.

“When the kids are away, the adults will play,” she says, dramatically opening the Cards Against Humanity box.

* * *

I look at my choices. The black card reads “What sucks balls?” and Mouse keeps making me read it out loud so he can laugh about it.

“You guys are all disgusting,” I mutter, looking through the white cards. “‘Thrusting and grunting’, ‘this kid I found’, ‘having thirty sons named Chad’, ‘Tupac’, and ‘Casually suggesting a threesome’.”

Kate snorts her drink laughing.

"In view of this group's history, I'd have to choose 'Casually suggesting a threesome'." I'm still grumbling as I slap the card onto the table.

With a smirk, Mouse takes the black card. 

“Should’ve known,” Kate mumbles. 

“What can I say,” Mouse says, “Crockett is a sweet, gentle lover.”

I sigh, then lean forwards, flicking him in the forehead.

"You're filthy, Gerwitz."

But Tommy looks… somewhere between horrified and curious. “Did you guys really…?”

I lean my chin on my clasped hands, letting that easy smile come back. "One of the best nights of my life," I say softly, gazing at Kate and Mouse, but mostly Mouse. 

Kate scoffs. “I don’t know what Mouse is thinkin’. Crockett is  _ not _ a sweet, gentle lover. Ooof.”

Rae fights off her smile, because she keeps glancing to Tommy and Kelley, waiting for their reactions. 

Tommy’s jaw just drops a little more. 

Kelley looks  _ horrified. _

"You… you three…" she stutters, looking between us. 

I stand up, walk around to Mouse, and wiggle myself onto his lap. 

"Listen, the moment he uses the drill sergeant voice, I'm all mush," I say, batting my lashes up to him and Kate.

“When?” is all Tommy could squeak out. “When did this happen?!”

Mouse just buries his face in my arm. I can feel him laughing.

I look to Kate, smiling. "Should've happened a long time before, right, Katie Kat?" I let my eyes close, snuggling into Mouse, giggling a bit.

“I had been trying to get him to for months,” she says, almost grumbly. “This was before Rae, of course.”

She rests her head on her hand, leaning her elbow against the table and dreamily says, “I should rather hope so. Had I been in the picture, it would have easily become a foursome.”

I whine a bit, and I'm not sure if it's acting or not.

Tommy’s still leaning forward. It’s his turn to pick a black card, but he’s not having it. “I have to know details,” he breathes. Kelley glares at him, but turns to us. 

I move just enough so I can lay across Mouse and Kate's laps, looking up at them. "They want details, my dears."

“Raz, you never ask a lady how much dick she can take,” Kate says calmly. 

Rae has to run to the sink to spit out her drink and take herself out of the entire situation. Poor, poor Tommy hasn’t caught the hint.

Kelley squeaks, burying her face in Tommy's arm. "Lies, he asks me."

This time, Kate nearly does a spit take.

* * *

It’s late by the time Kate and Mouse finally leave, and I pull myself onto the counter, helping Rae finally clean up the remnants of game night.

Finally, she speaks. “That damn threesome bit. You got those two. And you never let them down that it didn’t happen!”

I just smirk. "Listen, I had a blast. How about you?"

“It was exhilarating, but you’re changing the subject,” she says, putting down the dish towel and coming around to the counter. She slips her hands onto her hips. “You were… joking, weren’t you?”

I hum. "Was I? Maybe so, maybe not." I lean back on the counter, smirking at her.

She bites her lip and starts to smirk. “I’m really disappointed you didn’t describe that threesome in excruciating detail.”

I raise an eyebrow, my breath catching. "It was… it was a lot. A bit overwhelming, if I'm being honest."

She squints. “I don’t believe you. I don’t think you have it in you,” she says, going back to doing some of the dishes.

I whine. "Rae… I do too," I say. 

“Mmm, until you convince me you would even know what to do with yourself in a threesome, I will never believe you’ve achieved such a… lifetime achievement.”

"How would you even know?" I try, last-ditch effort to save face.

“What, you don’t think  _ I’ve _ been in a threesome before?”

I whine, watching her with wide eyes. "Rae… Rae, you…" 

“What did Kate say? ‘You never ask a lady how much dick she can take’?”

I huffs, rubbing my face with my hand. "We're going to… we're going to revisit this." 

I can't help but watch her. She's so beautiful.

“Oh, are we?” She says, and her voice changes a little. “I would very much like to revisit this.”

I bite back the little gasp. Damn, she's something else. 

“Perhaps we could continue that discussion right now,” she says, slipping up onto one of the barstools. 

I reach for her, and damn it all, I need to hold her.

"Rae, baby, you're gettin' me all riled," I say, but I don't want her to stop.

And then she lifts herself up onto the counter like I typically do. 

“Why don’t you tell me about that threesome, huh?”

"The… the one that didn't happen?" I gasp, reaching for her. She leans back on her hands as I pull her close. 

“Oh, so now you’re admitting it?” She tsks. “I’m so disappointed. I wanted all the delicious, dirty details.”

I almost shiver as I kiss her, and I just love this woman so much. "Rae, honey, you…"

She pulls me into her, closer, and kisses my neck. “Tell me how you would do it.”

I shudder, my hands slipping behind her to keep her close to me. 

"I… I'd… oh God, Rae…"

She wraps her legs around my hips, pulling me into her until we’re pressed together completely.

I can barely speak, I'm just trying to savor this. "Rae," I whimper a bit, trying to kiss her. "C'mere, let me kiss you…"

She throws her arms around my neck, her fingertips running over my jaw. 

“You’re positively incoherent right now, aren’t you?”

I'm nodding. "I… you're so…" 

She slips her hands across my hips. I can feel her fingertips against my skin.

"Listen," I gasp, but she's making it so hard to focus. "You're teasin' me and I can't think… keep doin' that…  _ Raelynn,"  _ I can't help suddenly moaning her name.

She draws her hands back, leaning back on them, looking a little concerned.

“I’m so sorry, Crockett, I just… I got out of hand,” she whispers. “We… we can’t. Not with Evie here.” She starts to giggle a little. “I fear we would get a little… loud.”

I chuckle, still trying to get my breath back after she stole it. Rae’s smile begins to fall as she grows a little more serious.

“You name the night,” she whispers, barely loud enough for me to hear. “Evie can have a sleepover with Kelley, or--or Kate and Mouse. You tell me when and it’ll be done.”

"You beautiful woman, what did I ever do to deserve you?" I whisper, hand on her cheek. "There's nothing good enough I could've done to deserve having you in my life." I lean forwards, catching her lips in mine, nipping at them playfully. "How soon can I take you up on that offer? Don't know how much longer I can wait."

She pulls my mouth to hers and kisses me hard and long before letting me go and jumping down from the countertop.

“Sooner rather than later, don’t you think?” She says. “Besides. All this talk of ‘deserving’ makes me wonder if you could handle me.” She adds with a wink.

I just whimper once, smiling at her. She's so beautiful.


	53. Are you getting stronger?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley starts her shift off perfectly fine with a less than appropriate conversation with Blake and Darren, but it quickly descends into darkness after a call concerning her ultimate nemesis. But even the firehouse’s support behind her beating the ass of one of the victims isn’t enough to stop from him getting into her head and sending her on a spiral, leading her to visit the Gerwitzes during class and finding that she does, in fact, want help. As much as she fights it.

_ Is time shifting weight? _

**April 15, 2020** **   
** **1324 Hours** **   
** **Firehouse 51** **   
** **Kelley**

“I’m not sure I want to know this,” Darren mutters.

Blake leans forward over the counter top, looking absolutely gleeful. “I want to know this. I want to know every damn detail. And you’re gonna tell me.”

“Can you  _ please _ not give us details about your sex life? Please?” Darren retorts.

I snort. "Listen. All I'll say, because Little Miss Prude over there is squeamish, is that Tommy and I went at it, went at it good, and  _ lots. _ " 

I hope up on the counter and lay down on it, smiling at the boys. “How's that?"

“I told him to just go for it,” Blake says under his breath. 

"You  _ what? _ " I ask, staring at him.

“He was so worried!” Blake says, continuing to make lunch. How can he focus when he says shit like that? “I told him to just go for it. Stop thinking about it. He gets all up in his head, and then he wigs himself out. He’s better off just… goin’ for it.”

"Oh, he went for it. He went for it hard…." I mutter. "I could walk in the morning, but he fixed that real quick."

Darren is just…. gone. Blake scoffs a little. “Can’t normalize it if you’re gonna act embarrassed, buddy!” He calls after him before turning back to me. “I’m glad. Ever since we became friends, I think I’ve been a sounding board. A weird sounding board, but one nonetheless.”

"You're the best, Blakey," I tell him, smiling. "Listen, Tommy's like… he actually punched the asshole on the hockey team!"

“I’m sorry, what?  _ Tommy?” _ He says, putting down his knife. “Tommy. The Tommy we know and love.”

"Yes!" I giggle. "And let me just say… it was hot. And satisfying. And I got to see him stand up to the prick who'd bullied him for years."

“Seriously? Berks, right? He kept saying he’s been wanting to do that. Good. Glad he finally did.”

"Blake, no, I mean  _ Dags!  _ The one on our team!" I say gleefully.

“What? One of your  _ team members? _ How the hell did that go down?”

Darren returns, sidling up to me. “What’s this I hear about a fight?”

"Tommy punched Dags, the asshole on our team who's always made fun of him. Hell, it was satisfying," I say, and it was.

Blake squints at me. “Something tells me there’s more to that statement.”

"Dags has given him trouble for ages. Tommy finally gave it to him. And then Crockett did too. And Dags quit. And Crockett's on the team now. There's gonna be a hell of a lot more fights now!"

“Dr. Marcel joined?” Darren exclaims. “We gotta go back.”

I giggle and then trail off. "Tommy though…" I stare off, remembering the damn good aftermath.

“Oh, God. How hard did he go after?” Blake mutters. 

And then the tones drop. 

I giggle. "As hard as those tones," I say as I listen for the call.

“ _ Truck 81, Squad 3, Engine 51, Ambo 61, building fire, 73 West Monroe. Be advised, employees trapped inside.” _

Blake is just booking it past me.

I'm running for the rig, and I'm half in my turnout, and I'm ready to go. 

Blake nearly jumps over me as he runs to the rig.

I try to swing up into the rig, and I miss the step. Herrmann snorts and grabs my foot, shoving me up. 

"Marcks, one more time and I will pick you up and throw you into the rig," he yells, grinning at me in the mirror. 

I just grin at Ritter. He rolls his eyes before getting into the rig. 

This is gonna be a fun one, I think. 

* * *

"Marcks, left corner, I'm right behind you! Clarence, Ritter, go right!" Herrmann calls, and he's by my side as we break through the flames. 

"Lieutenant, I see someone!" I start heading for the corner, and I'm ready to go. "I need an extinguisher, I can't get in there otherwise! Sir, sir! I need you move back as far as you can!"

The large man in a suit tries to retreat, but I hear his voice call out— “I can’t get back any farther!”

I see Herrmann with the extinguisher, and I yell again. "Sir, cover your mouth as much as you can and close your eyes!"

I nod to Herrmann, and then once the flames are less, I grab the man's arm, pulling him out with me. "Sir, are you injured?"

“Got hit on my leg,” he grunts. Wait, I know that voice.

"Mr. Berkoshitz, right?" I say sweetly, and I motion to Herrmann to help me get the guy out. "Sir, we're gonna get you out, alright?"

“.... Marcks?” He grumbles. “Seriously. Seriously.”

I grit my teeth. Herrmann and I get him out into fresh air, and I roughly jerk him over to 61. "Brett, Foster, stand down for a minute, got it? Need to talk to Mr. Berkowitz. Scram."

I check to make sure Engine and Squad got the rest of the trapped employees, and Truck is knocking the flames down, and then I turn to Berks, yanking off my helmet and SCBA. 

"Well, well, well, asshole," I say conversationally. 

He refuses to look at me. His suit is all singed. He looks so… weird. 

One of his coworkers come running up just as soon as Blake and Darren arrive.

“David! David, are you okay?” She asks loudly. 

Blake busts out laughing. “Your name…. your name is David Berkowitz?” He can’t even focus, he’s laughing so hard. 

I smile fakely at the woman. "Mr. Berkowitz will be fine, ma'am, have you been cleared yet by our paramedics?"

“Yeah,” she says, breathy. “Where were you, David? We couldn’t find you!”

“I’m fine,” he mutters. Blake is still laughing. 

"Listen, ma'am, I'm a master at pulling people out of places, they shouldn't be in, ma'am I need you to step back. I need to ask your coworker a few questions," I tell her.

“Of course, of course,” she says, eyeing Berks and then stepping away. 

Blake finally finds his words. “Named…. after… Son of Sam…”

I snap my fingers at him, and I make myself keep a straight face as I turn to Berks.

"Hey man, good to see you!" I say cheerily. "How you've been?"

“Fuck off, Marcks. Now ain’t the time.”

"Oh, it's not the time?" I say, acting shocked. "I suppose it was the time when you beat the hell out of me on the ice." I look to Blake, winking.

Blake looks like he’s about to explode. In a single breath, he says quickly, “did your mom accidentally name you after a serial killer or did she do it on purpose when she saw your ugly mug?”

Darren finally just breaks, losing his goddamn mind. 

I glare at Blake, but shrug. "Listen, Berks, I wanna know, why me?" I ask sweetly.

“The ‘why you’, what?” He says, getting angrier. “I don’t give a fuck about you. You’re an asshole.”

It’s one of the weaker of his chirps, and I see Sylvie eyeing me with wide eyes. 

"Listen, bag of shit, I did nothing to you. You're the one who Hulk-smashed me into the ice and gave me a concussion."

“All’s fair in hockey, bitch.”

I just smile at him. "You know, if the concussion was any worse, I would've lost my job."

“ _ Your _ job didn’t just go up in flames.”

That's it. "Listen, shithead, put it this way. Maybe, if you had given me a worse concussion, I wouldn't be here right now, and I wouldn't have pulled you out of your job that just went up in flames. My job is to save assholes like you, even when you can't be a decent fuckin' human being."

“Alright, time to go,” Blake says, picking me up from behind. 

I fight him off, and shove my finger into Berks' face. "Moreover and henceforth, therefore, and whatever else, you have incurred the wrath of the loyal boyfriend and the loving but deadly hockey-playing elder brother. Time for you to die!" I squeal at him. "But I will be merciful. I will let you die another day. Understand, you fuckin' piece of shit?" 

I glare at him, finger almost poking out his eye.

Blake keeps pulling me back, my finger still extended. 

“How about I thank you at the championships?” He calls back. 

“Let it go,” Blake mutters in my ear. “Let it go.”

I see Darren and he just has both middle fingers raised. 

"You can thank me, bitch, but I don't give very nice welcomes!" I shout, following Darren's example, but finally letting Blake pull me away. 

“What in holy hell was that about?” Mouch asks. 

Oh,  _ shit. _

"What was what about?" I say, smiling at Mouch, then turning on my heel and heading for the Engine rig.

“There were five middle fingers between the three of you to that guy you pulled out of that fire,” he says, gesturing towards the ambo. “Just wonderin’ why he got the New Guard’s wrath.”

"Mouch," I say, looking to him. "One, please don't tell Herrmann. Two, remember when I came back with a concussion the day I was sick and I was all battered up? He's why. He punched my lights out during a game, him and his buddy. Hulk-smashed me on the ice, so forgive me if I don't have many nice things to say to him."

“Alright, alright, I don’t gotta tell Herrmann,” he says, holding up his hands. “And why didn’t you just punch the guy? I would’ve.”

“She tried,” Darren says. 

"Punch him then, or now?" I grumble. 

Mouch laughs once. “Both?”

"Blake held me back now, and I was too stunned and bloody to punch back then." I'm still glaring towards Berks.

He just throws a thumb back to where the Chief is lurking. “Want me to distract the Chief?”

I shake my head. "Shouldn't. I'm on thin enough ice - ha - as it is." 

For good measure I flip off Berks from a distance. He’s made his way over to the rest of his coworkers, but manages to discreetly flip me off. 

“If you don’t kill ‘em, I will,” Blake mutters.

I growl, and I start stalking towards Berks. I don't care he's around his coworkers, I will punch him in an alley for all I care.

"Woah, hey, the hell you doing?" I hear Casey say, getting in my way. 

I glare up at him. "I need to take care of something." 

He just stares at me, and then shakes his head. "Severide! Come here, talk to the scrapper!"

Sev jogs back up, still holding a halligan, probably for overhaul. 

“What’s she gonna do now?”

"Need to  _ talk  _ to someone," I mutter, trying to go around him. 

“Oh, I know that voice,” Sev says, absentmindedly tapping the halligan against his palm. 

“Give me that,” Casey says, taking the tool. “You’re not helping, Sev.”

"Sev, gonna fuck him up," I'm growling, and I'm ready to do it. 

He looks over to him, gestures his head towards him. “What’d he do to you?”

"He's the asshole who hurt Kate and concussed me. Fuckin Hulk-smashed me into the ice," I say for what feels like the dozenth time today.

“Oh, well then,” Sev starts in, trying to push back Casey. 

“Dude!” Casey says. “Both of you. Inside. Overhaul. Now.”

"Casey," I whine. "Come on, let me. Let me just punch him. I'll punch, then overhaul. Please?"

He holds up a finger to my face. “Kelley. Stop it.”

I try and bite his finger. 

“Can’t restrain your bitch, huh?”

I hear Berks’ voice. 

"Oh, that's  _ it! _ " I holler, pushing past Casey. "You brazen asshole!"

There’s a “Ruh-roh” from Blake as I push between Casey and Severide and haul ass towards Berkowitz. 

“Dammit, Marcks!” Casey calls as I make contact with the asshole I just pulled out of his own office fire.

I tackle him, my fist landing on his jaw, my other hand to his eye. He’s on the ground before I realize it, and there’s a cry that shifts through the familiar voices of Firehouse 51. 

I don't even know how hard I hit him, and I don't care. I'm done. I'm sick of him.

My fist lands on his nose, and I feel something crack. I don't know what, I don't know who. I don't care. 

"You bastard, you've done nothing but hurt Kate, insult Mouse, and fuckin' try to kill me! You asshole," I scream in his face, and my hand slaps him before I think. He can’t even get his hands up to protect himself. 

“What the  _ hell _ is goin’ on here?” I hear the Chief’s voice.

I get one more hit in on Berks' jaw, and then I hiss in his face. "I swear, if you  _ still  _ think I'm anyone's bitch after this, I will kill you and not give a single damn." I stand up, stand at attention, and face Boden.

Well. This will suck. I chance a glance to Berks, and I smirk. It was worth it. 

“Why the hell are you attacking one of the victims of the  _ massive _ office building fire we  _ just _ put out?” He yells. 

"All due respect Chief, he's a fuckin' asshole. Figured I'd give him some of the same shit he's given me." I glare at Berks again, and I wince at the sure-to-be eventual bruises on my hands. 

“Uh, if I could step in, Chief?” Blake says. “He’s been taunting her since she dragged him out of the fire today. We know this guy. He’s in the same hockey league as Kelley and has beat the shit out of both her and Kate multiple times.”

“He started it,” Darren says simply.

Sev points at Berks. “Couple a-years ago, one of the tournaments Kate was playing in, I remember him beating the absolute  _ shit _ out of her. Herrmann, me, Sylvie… I think even Jay and Ruzek were there.”

“Yeah, couple of cops,” Herrmann drawls. 

“We could get some of them to come down here,” Severide says. “Take some statements.”

My eyes go wide. "Sev," I whisper urgently. "If that's the case can I knee him in the stomach like he did to me last month?"

Berks takes a swing at me and nails me in the jaw. 

I stagger back, and I'm suddenly dizzy. 

I need a second to breathe, and then I need another, and my jaw feels like it's been shoved into my skull.

And then I'm back, and I swing at him, and I miss and I'm just angry and dizzy enough I don't care, and I swing again, aiming for his nose. It snaps. I feel it shift.

And then someone pulls me off of him. I fight against the grip, but I’m not put down on my feet until Sylvie and Em make it to Berkowitz. 

“I should press charges!” He says, as loudly as he can with a broken nose.

I'm fighting to get closer, and I'm screaming. "You fucker, Kate should have pressed charges when you hit her the first time. You actual piece of shit, I should have pressed charges, you pulled your fuckin'  _ goalie  _ and boarded my best friend to fuckin' take me out! You literally could have  _ killed me!" _

They’re picking him up. Should have left him on the ground. And he starts  _ laughing _ .

“She did press charges! They didn’t stick!”

"Why didn't they, asshole? Give me a fuckin' answer!" 

I'm angry enough I see red. Foggy red. 

He just chuckles. “Got friends in high places.”

"Yeah, I got better friends in places higher than hell. You could have killed me!" I'm yelling, and I don't care. 

Someone holds me back as they cart him away. I realize, even through the angry fog, that I hear Herrmann’s voice, as calm as the man can muster. 

"-you need to breathe, Kelley, hey, hey! I will pin you to the ground right now, you need to breathe, kid. Look at me!"

I stop fighting, slowly, and I just groan. 

"Kelley, hey, look at me." 

I look at him, and I'm suddenly numb. 

The anger is gone, leaving nothing. Nothing but that damn feeling I thought I left behind. The feeling of me having to prove myself again. The same feeling Berks has always managed to remind me of. 

Herrmann grabs my face, purses his lips. He still looks pissed when we finish overhaul. He still looks pissed when we make it back to the firehouse. 

The next time I see him, he’s pacing in the bunk room on his cell phone.

“We’re gonna get this guy, Hank. I’m not lettin’ him take another shot at Kelley again.”

"Herrmann," I say, and I'm so exhausted, and my jaw hurts, and it's still clicking when I talk. "Just… just leave it. It's not important."

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says into the phone, then hangs up. “It is important. It’s you,” he says, almost poking my shoulder. “I’m gonna take care of it.”

And he storms out of the bunk room.

I just sit down, and I stare at the floor. I want to talk to somebody but I think I'm still walking a line here. I shouldn't have lost my shit like that. 

I took an oath to protect. To help. To do everything I can. 

I broke it the moment I broke rank and put my fist in Berks' face.

I half expect Boden to call me up on the carpet any time, tell me I'm on administrative leave. 

He'd be within his right. The CFD would be well within its right.

I broke that oath. 

I've tried so hard to uphold it, and in one moment that crashed and burned. 

What was it?

"I promise concern for others. A willingness to help all those in need. I promise courage - courage to face and conquer my fears. Courage to share and endure the ordeal of those who need me. I promise strength - strength of heart to bear whatever burdens might be placed upon me. Strength of body to deliver to safety all those placed within my care. I promise the wisdom to lead, the compassion to comfort, and the love to serve unselfishly whenever I am called."

I failed. I broke that oath. 

In the silence of the bunk room, I just sigh. 

Somewhere, I think around the 'strength of heart' bit, I think… there's tears on my face. 

I'm sick of it. I'm sick of feelin' like shit every time Berks gets to me. I keep sayin' he won't, and then he does. 

I flop backwards onto the bed, staring up and those damn tears run into my ear. I think that was a country song. "I've got tears in my ears from cryin' over you." 

I'm exhausted.

Until I feel someone lift up my head and slip underneath it. I don’t look who it is at first, and then I feel a hand rubbing my back. I cry for a while. I cry until I have the strength to look up.

Blake strokes my hair, just sitting there, silently. Darren runs his hands over my back, sitting on the floor next to the bunk. 

What did Mouch call us? The New Guard. 

* * *

_ Darkness exists to make light truly count _

**April 16, 2020** **   
** **1336 Hours** **   
** **University of Illinois- Chicago** **   
** **Kelley**

I know I should have done this a while ago, but Tommy and I finally got enough time to stop by when Kate was teaching one of her classes. 

Specifically, Tommy wanted this one. He was very adamant about it. 

“What did you say this was?” I ask.

“History of Chicago,” he says excitedly. “Actually, I was gonna talk to her about possibly looking through her notes this summer. She said she’d rather set up weekly coffee dates or something so we can just chat about it! She said she thought I would have some cool ideas! How neat is that?”

"It's really cool," I smile at him, but it's one of those smiles I haven't used in a while. I think last time I used it was when Crockett went off to work that one morning almost a year ago and asked if I was okay. I told him yeah. Same day everything experienced a paradigm shift.

Same smile. Different time. 

I reach for his hand again, and I breathe. I smile. 

I’m glad he opens the door to the classroom. He does it as quietly as he can, and we only catch the attention of a few of the nearest students as we slip in and sneak into a pair of desks. 

Kate doesn’t see us, but she is loud. And damn. The lecture hall is nearly filled…. 

Kate is on some sort of tear, nearly out of breath, as she paces in front of the classroom. She looks... different. She's in skinny jeans, and her typical combat boots, and a graphic tee—a black Flogging Molly shirt with a white design that looks like a patron saint medal. But she's got on an unironic black, green, and blue plaid blazer. Is she... does she wear makeup when she teaches? Damn. 

Still, she's running off the cuff, I think, at this point, and she doesn't even see that we've come in. 

"Five! Five members of the North Side gang were killed! One! Moran's second in command. Albert Kachellek—James Clark was his alias—Albert Weinshank, Frank Gusenberg, Peter Gusenberg, and Adam Heyer. Two more collaborators, Reinhardt H. Schwimmer, and John May. All of them were killed in the raid. Frank Gusenberg. Only one still alive. How many bullet wounds did he sustain? How many?"

“Fourteen,” Tommy calls out, and then he almost sinks into his chair, like he’s embarrassed. Kate looks at him and says “correct” before double taking the two of us and breaking into a wide smile. 

I pat his hand, then give Kate a little wave.

She keeps going, drawing a deep breath as she continues. "So, do you know what the plan was? Moran! Anyone? Did anyone do the reading?" She’s looking over the class. They’re looking only a little intimidated.

“They were trying to lure in Moran with the promise of stolen whiskey. From Detroit.”

It’s Tommy,  _ again _ . 

“That’s right,” Kate says. “Do you know which—”

“Detroit’s Purple Gang. Associated with Capone,” Tommy says, sitting up in his chair. “They were supposedly associated with Capone, and the Gusenbergs, they were supposed to drive to Detroit and pick up some stolen whiskey. Uh, Canadian, I think.”

Oh, he's in his element. I get to watch him, and it just makes me love him more. I get to watch as he comes alive.

This time, Kate just straight up addresses Tommy. “What do you know about the only victim left alive?”

“Frank Gusenberg,” he says with a scoff. “Like you said, fourteen gunshot wounds, but when the real cops got there, see, the attackers dressed up like cops, right? When he was taken to the hospital, the police tried to question him, and you know what he said? ‘No one shot me’. The asshole—oops, sorry—he died three hours later.”

“We curse in this class, you’re good, Raz,” she says offhandedly. She continues pacing, a piece of chalk in her hand but nothing written on the board. She just keeps shuffling it from hand to hand. “Now. I know you’re all wondering why I’m going on a rant about this. It’s because of the damn cultural significance. Can anyone—”

“It was the end of an era,” Tommy says, gesturing with his hands. “Throughout the entire 1920s, Al Capone and Bugs Moran were havin’ it out with each other. When the $50,000 bounty on Capone went up, he torched Moran’s gang. See, they thought that Moran was gonna be there on Clark Street, but he wasn’t. Still didn’t get him. But this? This was the last confrontation between the two. Moran’s gang was decimated after the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, and Capone got bagged in 1931. It effectively ended that era of gang warfare in Chicago. It brought down Scarface.”

"Holy shit," I breathe. I lean closer. "You're always hot, but this just made you  _ that  _ much hotter to me," I whisper in his ear.

“Do we need to leave?” He whispers back as Kate starts to close out class. “I’m sure Kate’ll loan us her office.”

"Maybe next time," I whisper. "You gotta bring the glasses next time."

“I could give you a lecture about the Great Chicago Fire if you wanna come over tonight.”

"I'm always down for a lecture," I say, batting my eyes at him. "Do you want me in that plaid skirt again?"

He bites his lip. “Only if you wear one of my shirts with it.”

"You better be in the glasses and that vest, sleeves rolled up," I say, smirking. 

“That’s a deal,” he says, holding out my hand to shake as the students file out. 

I fist bump him instead. "Turkey," I giggle as my fist hits his palm.

He makes a gobble noise as Kate walks up to us, her hands in her pockets. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such studious company?” She says. 

I smile at her, then jerk my head towards Tommy. "He really wanted to sit in."

“That was  _ awesome _ ,” he says emphatically. “I didn’t know college could be so cool!”

“Only my classes, Razmataz, only mine,” she says, brushing her nails on her blazer. “For real though, that was awesome. I think you just upped my street cred. Thought it was time, too. The whole ‘I killed a serial killer with my thighs before he tried to murder me’ bit is gettin’ a little played around here. I got an hour, you wanna get coffee or storm Mouse’s office or something?”

I just nod at her. Actually I think I've been nodding the entire time. I don't know. Whatever. Good enough. 

She squints at me. “You good, Kelley? I know that usually, when your mouth is shut, shit’s goin’ on in that brain of yours, and I don’t like when that brain is going without the mouth. You start thinkin’ of shit. Not good shit. Coffee? Mouse, and then coffee?” She says, piling up her papers and slipping them into her messenger bag.

"I like both," I say. What the fuck? That didn't even make sense. Get your head in this damn game, Marcks.

She checks her watch. “He might actually still be in class. Let’s storm it, yeah?” With a bounce, she heads out of the classroom, looks both ways in the hallway, and glances in the glass of the classroom across the hall, one down. She looks absolutely joyful when she pushes the door open, gesturing towards the two of us.

I step closer, peeking in the room, and I inch in. Kate waves us in, and it’s shocking, because where Kate was quiet when we came in, Mouse was nearly yelling. 

“There are distinct points in history when the idea of the full frontal charge  _ does _ , in fact, work!” 

Oh. I was surprised when I saw Kate, and I’m even more surprised when I see Mouse. Why have I never seen them in the work clothes? I mean, the jeans and boots are normal, but he’s wearing a blue cardigan and—does that have  _ elbow pads? _ Who is this man? Where is my Mouse?

The student he’s arguing with pipes up. “What about Pickett’s Charge? What about the Battle of Fredericksburg?”

"What about Lord Cardigan's failed charge of the Light Brigade?" I ask in a small voice.

“A fantastic deep cut,” he says, pointing to me absentmindedly. “Good poem. Tennyson. Wait.” He finally looks up, and he breaks into a wide smile. “Oh, hey guys!”

"Clear Russian victory," I say quietly. "British miscommunication resulted in a frontal charge that led to a Russian victory. The British took heavy fire, and they had heavy casualties. A hundred and ten killed, and another hundred and sixty-one wounded. Many or most of them died later. Over a third of their original number. The full frontal assault did not work there." 

I shut my mouth with an audible 'click.' Damn. I should get Crockett to check that out.

“While my very, very good friend Kelley is correct with her assessment on the Charge of the Light Brigade, she’s missing my point,” he says. He’s trying to be mad, but it’s really just kind of adorable. “What about the Battle of Bunker Hill? Missionary Ridge? The Brusilov Offensive?”

Kate pulls her collar away from her neck. She’s visibly uncomfortable, but not for a bad reason, I think. 

“There are plenty of times in history when it has worked,” he continues. “But all of you have such a western approach to it. What about the Battle of Alesia? What about the Fall of Mosul? That was in 2014! ISIL lead a couple thousand insurgents into Mosul, full frontal assault, and wiped out the Iraqi Army. 60,000 to no more than 1,500. A complete decimation of Mosul.”

I look to Kate. The color has completely drained from her face.

I reach for her hand, and I really hope she takes it. 

I don’t think she even sees it. Not at first. She seems to break a little, and jumps when she sees my hand, and takes it in hers. 

I can feel her hand shaking. 

Mouse keeps talking about that damn battle, and he starts in about the First Battle of Tikrit, and I think Kate is holding her breath.

I look at her, and I look at Tommy. I don't know what to do. 

I stare at the back of Mouse's head, and I hope he just looks our way. 

It’s like he feels my gaze, and he glances up to me, trailing off and squinting. Immediately, he glances at the clock and dismisses the class, and Kate is on her feet, walking out.

I fight the headache, looking at Mouse, and then I follow Kate. 

"Can I do anything?"

He just drops a kiss on my forehead and follows after her. She’s leaning against the wall outside the classroom, her eyes closed, breathing. 

“Kate? Babe, you okay?” He asks. 

I hear her counting down from ten in a breathy voice. When she hits one, she opens her eyes. The color is back in her face, and the wild look is gone. 

“I’m okay. I’m good. I’m okay. Sorry, guys.”

I just watch them, and my eyes are burning again. 

I want to help. But I don't know what to do. 

I lean on the wall, and I look up to the ceiling, counting tiles.

“I was in Tikrit,” is all she says. “It’s fine. I’m good. Mouse, you got class next?”

It’s so abrupt, I’m almost shocked, but she lets out another long, heavy breath as Mouse collects his stuff and comes back. 

“Something is wrong with you,” he says matter-of-factly to me. “Let’s get you some coffee and talk it out.”

I just shrug. "Okay."

Mouse and Kate lead us back out of the building, and then across the quad. I just follow, Tommy’s hand in mine, as we head into a coffee shop. 

“They’ve got the normal Starbucks shit, but it’ll do in a pinch,” Kate says. “What do you want?”

"Just black," I say, shrugging. Hanging onto Tommy's hand. Kate gets hers, and whatever Tommy wants, and leads us to a booth before Mouse returns with our drinks.

“What’s going on.”

Kate doesn’t ask. She states.

"Was on a call yesterday," I start, rolling the coffee cup between my hands. I pause to take a breath.

“Everyone okay?” Kate asks in a panic. “If it was yesterday, you would… you would have told me if everyone wasn’t okay, right?”

Mouse rubs his hand over her shoulder blades. The tension starts to leave.

I nod. "Yeah. Everyone's fine." I point to the half-covered-with-concealer bruise on my jaw. "Mostly."

“Babe,” Tommy says, pulling my chin gently towards him, “What the hell happened?”

I feel that numb knot in my stomach. It hasn't left since yesterday. 

"Pulled a guy from an office fire. Berks. He thanked me in his own special way. My fault," I say. "I called him out on pickin' on Kate and I. He just… he chirped me one too many times and I just clocked him. And he hit me back."

I swallow. There's more but I need to get rid of the lump in my throat first.

“What the  _ fuck _ .”

It’s not from Tommy. It’s not even from Kate. It’s from Mouse. 

“I’m gonna clock him. I’m done with his ass. I’m done. Turn on your fuckin’ location, buddy,” he says, pulling out his cell phone. “Fuckin’ hack your ass.”

"Just leave it. It's not important," I say, echoing what I said to Herrmann yesterday. I don't look at him. I don't look at any of them.

They all stare at me. 

“Why… the fuck… do you think it’s not important?” Kate articulates.

"I let him get to me. I let him piss me off."

“That’s not… that’s not even…” Kate tries. I can tell she’s still emotional from earlier, blinking the memory from her head. She shakes it once and clears it. “You make it sound like this was your fault. It’s not. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine, because he went after you because of me. No, that’s not even fair to me. This is his fault. He’s got some sort of vendetta against us, and we’re gonna stop it. Where’s my phone, I’m gonna call Hank.”

Mouse hasn’t stopped looking at his phone. 

"No!" I burst out. "Don't. Please. Please. I'm still half expecting to be told I'm on administrative leave for conduct unbecoming. I assaulted him in front of other civilians." I swallow again. "It doesn't matter. He already did the damage. A lot of it."

“There aren’t any complaints or cases filed,” Mouse says quietly. “Looks like you’re in the clear.”

“Besides, who saw? What about… what about Sylvie? She knows all about what we’ve dealt with.”

I shrug, but I don't answer her directly. 

"He brought back that feeling," I admit quietly.

Kate and Mouse both visibly straighten.

“What feeling?” Tommy asks.

"That one you called me out on, the one that's still in my head," I say, remembering his words when we got back to his apartment and had it out about the balcony. "The one that is questioning me how much I need to prove again. The one that's saying maybe… .maybe it's no use. Maybe the damage is too much."

Mouse just shakes his head. “Berks… he ain’t worth it. He’s a piece of shit man who gets his rocks off beating up women on a rink. You ever notice how he doesn’t come after anyone else? Because he knows he’s big, and he knows he can get you both riled up. Kelley, it ain’t worth it. He ain’t worth it,” he repeats at a whisper.

"I asked him if he cared he coulda killed me. He laughed. He  _ laughed _ ," I mutter. "And I let my anger get me, and I punched him and broke his nose in front of his coworkers and the entire Firehouse. I let him rile me enough to break my oath." 

I don't even bother with the tears on my cheek. I don't care enough. "I have to prove myself. I thought I did already. Apparently I'm only pretending."

Kate finally speaks up. “What did the rest of the firehouse do?”

"Blake pulled me off the first time. Herrmann the second time. He… he was pissed. Didn't say much. Sev stood up for me when Boden called me out." I shrug. "Nice. I just… I just feel too damn empty. I feel… it's the same sort of numb from almost a year ago."

“So,” Kate is starting to get pissed. “So, what you’re telling me is that your team… your  _ family _ , supported you. They heard the truth, and supported you. Mouse just told you nothing’s filed. You… you’re talking about pretending and feeling empty and breaking your oath when you  _ haven’t. _ What… what’s the oath. Tell me the oath.”

I take a shaky breath. "I promise concern for others. A willingness to help all those in need," I start quietly. "I promise courage - courage to face and conquer my fears. Courage to share and endure the ordeal of those who need me. I promise strength - strength of heart to bear whatever burdens might be placed upon me." 

Those damn tears. Same place. 

"Strength of body to deliver to safety all those placed within my care. I promise the wisdom to lead, the compassion to comfort, and the love to serve unselfishly whenever I am called."

I take a breath and nod. I haven't looked at any of them. I don't think I can.

“Alright, let’s break it down,” Kate says. “Concern for others. You pulled him out of the damn fire. You’ve beat his ass any time he’s tried to beat mine. Check. A willingness to help all those in need. Well, I think previous answer applies. You’ve never run away from a damn fight. A tilly, or when it’s burning down around you.”

“Courage to face and conquer your fears,” Mouse says. “I think you do that every day, don’t you?” He says, his hand resting on the cuff on his wrist. 

“Courage to share and endure the ordeal of those who need me,” Tommy offers. “I think just tellin’ us how you feel today counts for that. Because we all need you. I definitely do.”

“Strength of heart to bear whatever burdens,” Kate finishes. “I know you’ve had a helluva lot of burdens. But you’ve got it. Because you’re not alone, Kelley. You’re not. You’ve got a family. You’ve got the firehouse, and you’ve got the team. You’ve got us. So from my perspective, I think you’ve pretty much got that oath on lockdown. When you’re working or when you’re not. You live that oath. Trust me. I know about living oaths."

I shrug. That numb knot in my stomach is cold, and I drain my coffee, feeling it scald a path down my throat. 

And I nod. "I… I believe you. I just… I'm stuck here," I tap the side of my head. "And I'm trying to break back out and burrow deeper at the same time. I don't want to be lost there. Not again. We all knows what happens when I am." 

"This is me, I guess… I'm askin' for help," I whisper. "I'm tryin' to want it."

“That’s the first step,” Kate says, tears in her eyes. “It’s not gonna be easy. I’ve told you that for… for years now. Mouse too. We’re always gonna be here to give it.”

“Even when you don’t want it,” Mouse says, still typing away on his phone.

“Especially when you don’t want it,” Kate says. “You know why?”

I'm suddenly so tired. That damn voice in my head is screaming things, and I try to block it out. 

“Because we love you,” Tommy says quietly. _Do they? _“I do. We all do." _That's what they say. _"You know… you know I like things simple. Sometimes… this… this kind of thing, it’s hard. It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around." _You're_ _just going to make it worse for this boy. _

But he keeps going. "But if there’s one thing I know, it’s people getting under my skin. I’ve spent years trying to please everyone around me, trying to make people like me. Make people happy with the things that affect only me like my education or my job or…” he drifts. 

_ You damn woman, thinking any of this was a good idea.  _

“You thinkin’ you have to prove yourself, that’s other people tryin’ to crawl inside your brain."  _ Good luck getting rid of me. You next?  _

"You’ve already proven yourself to you. You’re… you’re a fuckin’ firefighter, Kelley. You eat flames for breakfast.” He makes himself giggle. “You’re… you’re brilliant, and you’re kind, and you’re exactly the kind of person I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

I smile at Tommy, and his last sentence hits a certain note in my heart. He read my mind. Maybe. "You do?"

_ Talk yourself out of this one, bitch. _

I shut my eyes, and for the first time the voice screaming at me in my head sounds like Berks.

One second I want to ask Tommy if he means it and the next I'm standing up. 

I want to yell at them. Tell them I don't need help. The voice in my head wants me to. I don't want to. I don't think I could. But it's giving me a headache, all this screaming. 

Tommy. Kate. Mouse. 

Need to swim my way back to them. 

Then why do I feel like the water is quicksand? 

Tommy is staring at me, Kate too. I want to tell them I'm okay. 

_ You're not even close to okay. _

"Shut up," I whimper. 

_ Good, now they think you're talking to them.  _

I know. I know what to do. I don't know. I have no clue. 

But it worked last time. 

"Mouse," I whisper.

He snaps his fingers to Tommy and he slides out of the booth, swapping sides with him. Immediately, Mouse’s arms are around me.

“Hey. Hey, don’t go where we can’t follow,” he whispers. “I know. He got into your head and you can’t shake him, right?”

"Make it stop," I say, but the numbness is in my stomach. It comes out flat and monotone, and I grab on to Mouse. "Getting lost, and I can't do it again."

“Hey, listen to me. Hey. You can’t go down that road again. Hey. Listen to me. We’re here. We’re right here. You’re with me, and you’ve got that disgusting black coffee you drink. Raz is here. He’s here with us.”

I feel his hand in mine. 

I clutch it. 

"Can't put you guys through that again. Can't put Tommy through that. I want it, but I can't. I…" I'm muttering under my breath.

And there’s a strong voice. It’s not coming from Mouse. 

“That’s not your choice.”

Tommy is calm. Tommy is… is patient, and he’s looking at me with that kind face. And he says it again.

“That is not your choice, Kelley. I’m not leaving.”

"When you said you were worried," I whisper, trying to keep my eyes on him. "About what I told you. About the full disclosure. And then when I told you about McClane-ing off a roof. And you said you were worried about the thought still in my brain. It's still there. Whether small or big. Well, here it is. The fuckin' ugly thought."

And in the simplest voice, he says, “That’s okay.”

I look up to the ceiling. I just breathe. I grab onto his hand, onto Mouse's shirt. 

"Everything in me is screaming to scream at you guys," I say quietly. "To tell you 'go away, let me go.' I know you won't. But sometimes all I hear is that. All I hear is the 'let me go. Just let me go.' I'm sick of it. I'm sick of the explosions. I'm askin' for help so I don't try to kill myself again, guys. I'm tryin' to want the help. I do want it."

“We know,” Kate murmurs, looking at her hands. “We’ve all got the explosions. Some different than others. We’re all at different places in the timeline. You’re just still in the hard part.”

"It's been almost a year. And I'm still caught in that pressure wave. I'm still on that balcony."

“I’m not saying it’ll get any easier. It’s been... “ Kate’s eyes glaze a little. “Four to… to twelve years. Twelve years since I joined up. And I still get to the… the pressure waves.”

“Sixteen years,” Mouse says. “Two to sixteen years.”

Tommy just grips my hand tighter. “I will never really understand what you guys have been through. But I’m here now.”

I look him in the eye. "I'm so glad you didn't have to deal with this shit the first time around," I say, my lips turning up. "You didn't have to deal with the balcony fallout. I'm so grateful you didn't have to." I take a shaky breath. 

“I’m not,” he says, almost horrified. “I wish I had been there. I wish I could have been there with you.”

I shake my head. "It's bad enough I put Crockett and Jay and Will and Kate and Mouse through it. I… if you had been there… I couldn't have put you through it too."

“No. No, Kelley, you don’t get it. I wish I had been there because… I could have helped. I could have… I regret not…” he’s trying so hard. He really is. “You have brought me so much happiness, and love, and… and confidence,” he kind of chuckles. “You have brought me so much good, and I wish I could have brought you a fraction of that when you needed it the most.”

I shiver. For a second, I feel the breeze. For a second, I feel the heat and steam pressurizing, the squealing of the pressure gauge. 

And then silence. 

I look Tommy in the eye, and the tears come. 

And they come hard enough to make me hunch over. I dont deserve any of them. I don't deserve Tommy. He's so much good. He's so much of the good in my life. Please, God, don't let me break his heart. 

Mouse runs a hand over my back, and Tommy just refuses to let go. He won’t let go. I… I don’t think he’s going to let go. 

I don't want them to let go. 

And then I chuckle. And I start to giggle. And I'm laughing, laughing hard enough my head hurts. Hard and loud enough I'm scaring myself. "To think," I giggle, and it's going to come out of my mouth and I need to stop it before it does. I need to. "To think part of this came out because I went  _ Die Hard _ off a building."

Kate starts laughing too. Mouse curses, and then falls in, chuckling. Tommy, it takes him a minute, but he nods, descending into a giggle and a snort. 

I try to speak again, still giggling, and I look at Mouse. "I know we agreed not to tell her," I point at Kate. "But y'know … I've done worse shit than tie a firehouse around me and jump off a building," I snort.

Kate just drops her head into her hands, still laughing. “Is it important to you for me to know?” She says, muffled. “Because I could always tell you horror stories of shit I did in Afghanistan. You know. Even out the terror.”

I'm still giggling. "And here I thought you'd have my head, Kate."

“You’re here,” she says, gesturing towards the table. “You’re here now, and you’re not gonna do stupid shit on purpose anymore, okay?”

“Keywords ‘on purpose’,” Mouse harrumphs. 

"I told you it was Blake's idea," I huff. 

“And I’ll have a talk with Gallo about that later,” Kate says. “The point is, you’re here. We’re here. We’re together. We’ve got each other’s backs. And none of us are going anywhere. Right, Tommy?”

He has a look on his face somewhere between concern, and fear, and the look he gives me when we wake up in the morning. It’s like he’s made a sudden realization and is trying to sort it all out in his head. 

“I ain’t leaving,” he finally says, “no matter how hard you push me away. I’m not leaving.”

I smile, and as the tears come down, I suddenly just want to hug him. I want to hold him and be held. 

So I reach for him, shyly. He beckons me closer, not shy at all. I detangle myself from Mouse and then crawl into Tommy's lap, head resting on his chest as I curl up.

Kate runs her hand over my back. “You wanna head back to my or Mouse’s office? You can have some peace and quiet there.”

“I have a couch and a coffeemaker,” Mouse offers. “You could set up shop. Make a home there.”

I look up to Tommy, a soft, still raw, but soft smile on my face. "Couch sounds nice," I whisper.

Tommy very nearly picks me up, and he wraps his arm around me. 

I lean into him, and I'm almost half-asleep right here. "Kate, Greg," I say suddenly.

Kate’s hands on Tommy’s shoulder as she leads us out of the building falls. “Yeah?”

"Thank you for not giving up on me. For coming back to get me," I whisper. 

“We will crawl through the mud and… and sand, and a mental battlefield to get to you, you know that,” Kate says, almost sharply. I know it’s not to me. It’s to the trauma. It’s to all our trauma. 

Greg, he simply leans over to kiss my forehead. Where the trauma made Kate want to fight, it just made him kind.

I look up to Tommy. Good Lord, I love him. 

"Tom?"

He just gives me a warm smile. “Kelley.”

I smile a bit. "Don't leave me," I whisper. 

“I don’t plan to,” he says. “You just might be the only one who can deal with me.”

Kate hears it, and with teary eyes, looks to Mouse. He just takes her hand in his. 

"Pretty sure you're the only one who can deal with me," I say softly, leaning my head back on his shoulder. I just see Mouse pull Kate close and kiss her on her forehead. 

I look up to Tommy again. "I feel like we have this weird sense of…. Of codependency."

“Isn’t codependency and dependency the same word?”

“Oh my God,” Kate mutters under her breath. 

I just chuckle. "Probably. I don't know. Mouse? Kate?"

“You’re good,” Mouse whispers, still clutching onto Kate like he’ll fall apart if she goes too far away. “Nah, you’re definitely good.”

I smile, and I tug Tommy's sleeve. "Stop for a sec," I say, and then I reach out for Kate. "Group hug," I say, trying to tug Mouse in. With an oof, he pulls Kate in, and he nestles his chin on my head. 

I feel Tommy's heartbeat next to my ear. I feel Mouse's chest rise and fall with each breath. I feel Kate's hand on my cheek. None of them make any move to let go. 

I already know I'm not leaving. 

I'm staying.


	54. Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett fulfills his promise to Evie, and they have a date at the Shedd Aquarium, leading him to fall even more in love with his girlfriend's child. And when Kate leaves one of her appointments with Dr. Charles and immediately runs into Hank Voight. After months of avoiding each other, they finally have a discussion concerning the events of January and how they’ve both tried to cope with it. But hope comes out on top, with both of them realizing they’ve adopted each other for the long haul. And when Kate, Mouse, the Halsteads, and Kelley go out that night to brush off a bad week, Crockett has a way of making it all seem a little bit brighter.

_Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life_

**April 16, 2020** **  
** **1338 Hours** **  
** **Shedd Aquarium, Chicago** **  
** **Crockett**

I smile as I park, glancing in the mirror to the back seat. I take a look out the window, and I turn off the car. 

“Well. You ready, Ev?”

The girl looks like she going to come out of her skin. 

“Let’s go let’s go let’s _ go!” _

“Ev, calm down,” I chuckle, and I open the car door for her. “You’ll explode.”

She grabs my hand and very nearly pulls me into the front entrance. I get our tickets as she very nearly bounces away from me, excitedly muttering something about the fish.

“Hey, hey, stop runnin’ away, can’t leave without me,” I call.

“I wanna see the fiiiish,” she says, almost under her breath, but she stops wandering and instead comes up to grab my hand.

“We’re gonna see the fiiiish,” I laugh, swinging her hand a bit. She very nearly drags me into the first exhibit on the right—Amazon Rising. 

Immediately—of course—she drags me directly to the red-bellied piranhas. 

I glance down at her, smiling. She looks so enthralled. 

“Do those really _ eat _you?” She asks, peering in the glass. 

“No, I don’t believe so,” I say, trying to read the sign. She just starts making chomping noises as she looks at it, and then gasps. 

“Don’t look, Crockett!” 

I stare at her. “What on earth are you talkin’ about?” 

She beckons me closer, down to her level.

I drop to a knee, waiting. “Yeah?”

She points a little down the way. “There’s snakes. I didn’t want you to be scared.”

Well, that’s… 

“Thank you, darlin’,” I say, kissing her forehead. “I think I’ll be okay.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” She asks, giving me one of those looks.

I take a breath, and God, I love this girl. I nod. “I’m sure.” 

She takes my hand and says, “if you wanna close your eyes while I look at that really bright green boa constrictor, I’ll tell you when I’m done, okay?”

I squeeze her hand a bit. “You’re a good kid, honey.”

She gives me a cheesy smile. “Do boas eat you?” She asks conversationally.

“I don’t… I don’t know? I’m not sure. I… Never really took the time to find out?” I say, and I really have no idea.

She peeks into the glass, looking for the boa constrictor. “Can you Google it?”

"I can try," I say, fumbling with my phone. "They do not."

“Hmm,” she says, almost… sadly? Before dragging me again towards a new exhibit. “Crockett, I wanna see the _ sharks _.”

I chuckle, following her. 

Like the idiot I am, I glance backward. I shudder and follow her. 

Sharks. Yes. Lovely.

She gasps theatrically. “Crockett, look at that baby shark!” She points to one, then she starts reading the description. “A Bonnethead Shark. It’s like a tiny hammerhead.”

I get sudden Vietnam-flashbacks to the Gerwitz wedding and I snort. Sudden visions of a guilty Kelley at the AUX cord while Voight grins like a madman as Baby Shark plays.

This is insanity. I can’t help humming it as I glance at the shark.

Her head just whips towards me.

“You know that song. How. How do you know that song?!”

“Blame Kelley, honestly,” I mutter. 

“I love Kelley,” she says, almost tapping on the glass, but then deciding otherwise. Good girl. “She’s nice. She’s like us.”

“And…. what are we like?” I ask, amused.

“Like us!” She repeats. “Family. But not. You’re not my dad, but you’re kind of my dad. Like Kelley’s not your sister, but she’s your sister.”

She squints at the tank, seemingly trying to antagonize the shark.

I hum, watching the shark as I kneel down beside her. “Family. Yeah.”

She just slips her arm around my shoulders and points. “Look at that angelfish.”

“I see it,” I say softly, but I’m watching her. 

“It’s so blue!” She says gleefully, still grasping on to me. “And there’s a sea turtle! Did you know that green sea turtles can live to eighty?!”

“Really?”

“And that’s a parrotfish, I think!” She says, pointing. “That’s weird looking.”

“Looks a bit weird, yeah.” I sit back on my knees, just watching her. She gasps when she sees another sign. “Can we go see the _ penguins?!” _

“Of course!” I can’t stop smiling at her. “You’re my daughter, even if you aren’t my daughter,” I breathe, almost silently.

She starts off slowly, turning around to wait for me to get up. “Crockett, Crockett, Crockett!” she says quickly. Very quickly. “Do you like penguins? What’s your favorite animal?”

“I love penguins, kiddo.” I haul myself to my feet with a groan. “Monkeys, like you.”

“I’m not a monkey!” she giggles. “_ You’re _ a monkey. Mama tells me not to climb on the counters, but _ you _ do.”

“You’re allowed to climb on the counters when it’s you and me, okay?” I wink at her.

“Good,” she says. “Good. It’s not like I’m gonna fall or something. At least, I don’t try to. Are you gonna come to my dance recital?” Evie asks, completing a spin in the middle of the pathway.

“Gladly, ma belle,” I chuckle, twirling her around. We start down the stairs, and she gasps. 

“Sea otters!” 

I pick her up in my arms, holding her close to the glass. “I see them, Ev.”

“Did you know they hold hands when they float?”

“I do! One of the few things I know.”

She scoffs. “You know a lot of things! You know about… about otters, and about helpin’ people, and football.”

“Hmm, I suppose.” I watch the otters, and I watch her. 

“You know how to make mama happy,” she says quietly.

“I like to think so, darlin’,” I say, just as quietly.

“You make me happy,” she says, much louder, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I try, my girl, I try,” I chuckle, pulling her close. She snuggles in closer to me. 

“You didn’t have to take me to the aquarium, and you did,” she mumbles, still looking at the otters.

“Why wouldn’t I take you?” I ask, confused.

“You work a lot,” she says simply. “And you get headaches. And I’m glad you didn’t today. That’s all,” she says, peering at one particularly close otter. She tries to make faces at it.

I smile, and I’ve forgotten this feeling. I’ve missed it. 

I pull back the hair from her face, weaving back into a braid. “I’m happy I could take you today, Ev. What say we head for the penguins, hmm?”

“Down the stairs!” She says happily. “There’s dolphins too, but dolphins are evil.”

My eyebrow goes up, I can’t help it. “Why are they… evil?”

She leads me down the stairs, and she completely ignores the dolphin exhibit. “They can go without sleep for _ days. _ Days, Crockett! I can’t go without sleep for…. For hours! They’re just mean. They eat puffer fish. They kill their own babies!”

She gets to a yell as she passes by.

I pause as I pass the dolphins, and I shrug at the nearest one through the glass. “Sorry, man, I don’t know. Innocent til proven guilty, bud.” I have to jog to catch up with my daughter, so far ahead of me. “Where’d you go? Evie?”

She peeks out from behind the next wall, and I let out a sigh, as she puts her hands on her hips.

“Why are you speaking to the dolphins?” She asks accusingly.

“Hey, I’m a fair man, I give everyone a chance. Sort of. I don’t know what I’m doin’ here,” I say with a huff. “I know diddly about fish.”

She lets out a loud giggle. “I love your accent so much.”

I tilt my head. “Why…?”

“Because it makes me laugh!” She says, shaking her head at me like she’s telling me the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I don’t have an accent, you do,” I tease, poking her cheek as I stand next to her. As soon as I get there, she wraps her arms around me. 

“My accent is weird,” she huffs. “It’s not even that much like mama’s. Hers is pretty and yours is funny. Mine is bor-ring.”

“Yours is beautiful, and I love it,” I say, squeezing her close. 

“Mama says I sound like a 1920s film star,” she says, dramatically throwing her head back and placing the back of her hand on her forehead.

I chuckle and pick her up in my arms, spinning her around. “You’re a drama queen.”

She lets out a bit of a squeal, and holds even tighter to me, looking a little more concerned than before. But she doesn’t say a word.

“Tu vas bien, ma belle?” I ask, still holding onto her.

“I’m fine,” she says in a small voice, peering at the penguins. 

I set her down on her feet, getting down beside her. “Evie.”

She looks nervous all of a sudden. “So, I’m headed into third grade this year,” she starts matter of factly.

“I know, honey,” I say. “You feelin’ okay about that?”

“There’s… there’s a father daughter princess dance,” she says. 

“Would you like me to be there?” I ask softly, my heart in my mouth all of a sudden.

She kind of looks at me in shock. “Of course I do. I just don’t know what princess I want to be.”

I chuckle, and I pull her close to me. “Well, maybe we should watch some movies and you can make a choice then.”

“I really like Belle,” she whispers. “But mama always says she’s Belle.”

“You and I can be Belle, I don’t think she’ll mind,” I whisper back.

She giggles. “You would have to be Prince Adam.”

“Hmm, I’ve always liked her dad, Maurice,” I say, poking her nose.

“You remind me of Maurice,” she giggles. 

“Just like _ you _ remind me of Belle.”

She twirls a little. “Yeah. I think Belle. It’s this fall. Save the date.”

"Gladly, my dear," I say softly. I twirl her under my arm, smiling at her. "Gladly."

“Good. Glad we figured this out,” she says. “Now. I wanna look at some penguins.”

"Penguins it is."

* * *

_You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars _

**April 17, 2020** **  
** **1648 Hours** **  
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center** **  
** **Kate**

I feel like I just unloaded onto Dr. Charles. I mean, it’s fair, with all the emotions that came out of yesterday. Kelley knows I mean well, even when I get frustrated or angry. That’s just my shtick. That’s my bag at this point. 

“You and Greg doing okay?” Dr. Charles says as I start to get up to leave. 

“Of course,” I say, chuckling. “He’s the one thing in my life that doesn’t change.”

He stands up, coming around his desk and pulling me into an embrace.

“I remember when you were coming in here and telling me he wasn’t.”

“Hey, things change,” I say into his shoulder. 

“And seemingly for the better,” he says. “I’ll see you next week?” He finally pulls away from me, so I blow him a kiss.

“Always. Love our dates.”

“You didn’t always.”

“I was stupid then,” I harrumph, heading for the door. “Hey, Dr. Charles?”

He just looks up at me from his desk, a slight smile on his lips. 

“Love you.”

“I shouldn’t tell my patients I love them, but I love you too, Kate.”

I knock my knuckles against his door frame and start out, heading towards the ED to see if I could get a glimpse at Crockett or Will before leaving, but when I get down there, it’s a little bit chaotic. 

I think I see a flash of ginger, but it's only as said Ginger shoves a very disgruntled Intelligence sergeant out of Treatment Two. 

He shoves his hands back into the vest, but only one fits. The other, wrapped up well, doesn't. And he glares at it, and glares around the ED.

And then he sees me, and his glare turns into a curious look. 

He picks his way around, moving through the bustle, and stands in front of me. 

"Gerwitz," he says seriously, but his eyes don't hold the same weight.

“Hank, what the hell happened here?” My voice shakes, and I want to go to Treatment Two. I almost step around him to check.

He holds up his hands to stop me. 

"Atwater's fine. Just an undercover op got blown wide open, and a knife grazed his thigh. He's _ fine, _ Kate," he says, looking at me. 

“And what happened to you?” I say, crossing my arms and squinting at him.

"Me? Peachy," he snorts, raising his eyebrow at me.

“Hank, your hand. The hell did you do.”

He looks… guilty. Hank Voight? Guilty? 

"Number one, I broke knuckles on the guy's face," he grumbles, gesturing vaguely. 

“And what’s number two?”

"And here I was, hoping you'd forgotten how to count. My mistake," he wisecracks. "Sprained wrist."

“Was that before or after you decided to break your knuckles on a perp’s jaw?”

"After," I hear him mumble. "Not my fault I forgot about broken knuckles. Not my fault the stair railing was on the same side as the broken knuckles."

“Hey, if Atwater’s doin’ okay, you wanna go get some coffee?” I ask. 

He glances back at Treatment Two, and sighs. 

"If that's what's gonna get you off my back," he says with a rare wink.

I squint. “Don’t pander to me, Hank Voight.” I link my arm through his, and I lead him outside to the coffee cart. I think we’re both better off outside anyway. Gets too stuffy in the ED. I get a cup of tea, and he gets his typical coffee, and I don’t know how long we sit on the bench in silence. 

"You doin' alright?" He asks suddenly, and his voice is not how Hank Voight's voice usually is. This is… he's hesitant. 

“Me? I’m doing fine. I’m doing pretty damn good, actually,” I say with a sigh, looking out over West Harrison. “Why? Do I seem like I’m not?”

"Just… just checking," he murmurs. 

“You’re never ‘just checking’, Hank, you’ve gotta have some sort of ulterior motive, and we both know that,” I chuckle. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

"Just checking," he says again, and that exasperation is back in his voice. "Just need to be sure you're okay. After…" he takes a long drink of his coffee.

“After what?” I harrumph. “It could be any number of things at this point.”

"After January," he says, and he's shaking his head. "After… after that whole shitstorm."

I feel like I’ve run into a wall going eighty miles an hour.

“Yeah. January. Guess you and I haven’t really… checked in since then, have we?”

He sighs. "Where do I even start," he says flatly.

“I don’t regret it,” I say, flexing my fingers. “Don’t. How… what happened to the case? What happened to that…” I almost say ‘what happened to the guy I nearly killed’ but I can’t say it out loud.

"Got… Got dealt with. Cook County," he shrugs. "Charged with attempted capital murder." 

“Good,” I say, letting out a heavy breath. “Good. Damn. Good. Well, I never got called in for court, so I guess you took care of my involvement, yeah?”

"I told you I would."

“I had no doubt, Hank,” I say, looking to him. “You always seem to ask me if I’m doing okay. How are you?”

He huffs. "No. Don't do that." 

“When have I ever listened to you when it comes to matters of emotion?”

He gives me a half-smile. "Considering I tell you not to…" he says, pointing at me.

I grab his hand and push it down. “C’mon. We both know you and I… we have a different kind of relationship. I mean, who else in the world would call a civilian to join in on a police action, and who else would drop everything she’s doing and grab her gun to do it?” I sigh, warming my hands on my cup of tea. 

"Not the point, Kate," he says heavily. "No, that's exactly my point, God. Shit." He takes a breath. "I shouldn't have brought you in. I don't regret calling you. I don't regret that. Kelley needed you, and so did Marcel. But God Almighty have mercy on me, I should not have brought you through those doors. I wish I didn't."

“I don’t,” I breathe. ‘I’m glad you did. I needed to be there. I wanted to see it. Not that I don’t trust you to get your job done. You more than anyone. I just… I needed to be the one.”

"It was reckless, and stupid, and it could've gone so badly wrong. Kate, don't you see that? You could've been killed. I could've signed the death warrant of two civilians, not to mention my friends, and I don't say that lightly." He turns to look at me. "And things happened in that room."

“I would’ve killed him,” I breathe. “I could’ve killed him. You and I both know that. I know the risks. I know what I’ve done. I know what I’m capable of. You and I both know that.”

"It's not about what you're capable of," he says tiredly. "It's about the fact that if something had gone wrong, I would've been carrying home two body bags. I don't care about takin' the rap for shit like this. I will never stop takin' the fall for my unit. But what happened in that warehouse and that house haunted everybody involved. And for that…" he takes my hand, looking me in the eye. "For that, I am so, so, so sorry." 

“Hank, I… I don’t feel like you have anything to apologize for. What is it with everyone this week just…” I’m frustrated, but I’m still grasping his hand. “The past is the past. It happened, whether you like how it happened or not. And now, we’re moving on. The more we look at the past, the less room you have to live in the now. Hank, I’ll accept your apology, but you have to know that I don’t think you have anything to be sorry for. The moment we start looking at the what ifs, the what could have beens, we’re lost. We can’t dwell on it.”

He chuckles. "I knew it," he says, looking me in the eye, and he's almost smiling. "I knew it."

“Knew _ what _,” I ask. I’m a little frustrated. I give him one of my speeches, and he just… smirks. 

His smile fades a bit, and he puts an arm around me hesitantly. "You… you're me. I look at you, and I see me. Don't turn into me. God, I should shut up," he mutters. "Ruzek's rubbing off on me after all these years."

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Number one, Ruzek’s a good guy. Most of the time. At any rate, he’s got a good heart and a good soul. Like you. Number two, I’m lucky to have you in my life, and I would be lucky to turn out anything like you, Hank.”

"Just don't make my mistakes," he says softly. 

He searches my face for a moment. "You sure you're not my kid?" 

“I think at this point, I’ve kind of adopted you,” I admit. “Between you and Dr. Charles… it’s like, my two dads!” I laugh, but it’s almost hollow. 

He reaches up, and he's gentle as he pushes back the hair from my face. "I… you, Kate, you're not the daughters I lost, but the daughter I gained."

“I miss her too,” I whisper. “But I’ll try to fill her shoes.”

"Don't do that," he says. "Fill your own shoes. Only you know what all you can do, Kate. Don't ever try to fill anyone else's shoes. Kate…" he sighs. "Listen. You're a hell of a woman. I respect you. And I need you to know that I'm with you until the wheels come off."

I don’t even know what to say. All I know is, my own father has never said anything like that. 

“I’m with you, too, Hank. Whenever or wherever. In any way you need me. I hope you know that.”

"I only know it if you know that it's a two way alley, Gerwitz," he chuckles, putting me in a mock headlock and kissing my forehead.

“Glad I ran into you today,” I struggle, just enough to make him feel it, but not enough to make him let go. I don’t want him to. 

He chuckles. "So am I." He runs his knuckles into my head, then rests his head on mine. "Think I gained a kid again."

“You had me for a while. Hell, you’re one of the reasons I’m with Greg. Had you never given him the chance, we would’ve never met.”

He sighs. "If I hadn't signed that paper, he never would have left again, Kate. I wish I didn't."

“Do you… Hank,” I chide, looking up at him. “Hank, this isn’t your fault.”

"No, I made the file get buried. I signed… I almost signed his death warrant. God, what is it with my kids and I almost get them indirectly killed."

I touch his jaw and pull his face towards mine. Damn. Four years ago, and I was at parade rest in front of him. Look at us now.

“What did I tell you about the past? It’s over. It’s done with. You live there, and you’ll never get over it. He’s here. We… we’re _ married _. We just bought a house, Hank. We are happy. We are better.”

He nods, looking at me. He's serious for a moment, and then he smiles, kissing my forehead again. "Yeah. Yeah, you are. Thank God for that." 

“I don’t mean to sound cliche, or… you know, ‘things happen for reason’ or whatever, but things _ happen. _That’s life. What makes us who we are is how we react and adapt. Our story is happy. It may change or we may hit highs or lows but we can react, and we can adapt. That’s the only way you survive.”

He chuckles. "Maybe. Maybe. You've done good, Kate. Both of you. Proud of you."

I settle into his embrace. “We need to have more of these talks,” I murmur. “Dr. Charles is good for my brain, but Hank? You’re good for my soul.”

"You're the balm for mine, Kate Gerwitz," he whispers, his hand rubbing my back. 

We just sit there. For all the times I’m an anchor for someone else, it feels good to be anchored for a while.

* * *

_ Let nothin' stand in your way _

**April 17, 2020** **  
** **2053 Hours** **  
** **Molly’s Pub** **  
** **Kate**

After the long talk with Hank, I essentially force Greg to go to Molly’s with me. Kelley’s working, and I desperately just need to be around people for once. 

Thankfully, everyone else seemed to have the same idea. 

“No, dude, we can’t come out tomorrow night,” I tell Jay. He’s pouting a little.

“It’s my first weekend off in like, months.”

“I don’t care, we’re babysitting tomorrow night,” I say, grinning at Kelley. “Well, it’s more of a sleepover.”

She's giggling. "I'm twelve, 'kay? You're gaining two kids. hell, what if Jay comes too? Three kids!!"

“Four, if you count Mouse,” I say, throwing my thumb at him. He’s deep in conversation with Ruzek, so he doesn’t look at me, but I know he hears me because he throws me his middle finger.

“So, what’s goin’ on that you have to babysit?” Jay asks.

“Oh, Crockett and Rae are going out,” I say. “Just didn’t want to have to worry about Evie while they were havin’ their own date night, so she’s comin’ over to our house. Maybe teach her some of the finer things, like Mario Kart.”

Kelley groans. "She's gonna make Mouse cry."

“It’s not my fault he’s incapable of doing Rainbow Road!” I say. This time, he shoves his middle finger in my face. I bite him.

“Ow! Good Lord, Kate, the fuck was that for?!” 

“Gotta make sure you still know I’m the alpha.”

"No question about that," Herrmann mutters, squeezing past Kelley to grab a box off the shelf behind her. 

“Yo, Herrmann, you wanna get bit?!” I call out, gnashing my teeth a little. 

"Watched this one almost bite Casey the other day," he says, patting Kelley's head. "I'd rather not get taken out by rabies, thank you very much."

I reach out for Kelley’s hand. “We are truly sisters.”

She starts cackling, and then bows low to kiss my hand. And then licks it.

“Yeah, that scans,” I mutter, wiping my hand on Will’s shirt. 

“Hey. Gross. I don’t want that on me.”

“It is now. Hey, you remember when I tried to bite that cop in—”

“Yes, we remember,” Jay says, exasperated. “He wasn’t a cop. He was a security guard, and it was Warped Tour, and you were blitzed out of your mind.”

I sigh. “Some of my finest moments.”

"See, this-" Kelley waves at us. "These are the stories I need so I can corrupt the junior Gerwitzes when they pop out."

Will leans forward. “Then you gotta know the whole thing, right?”

I try to put my hand over his mouth, but he pushes me away and points at Jay. “It was Flogging Molly, wasn’t it?” 

Jay shakes his head. “My Chemical Romance.”

“It was Flogging Molly!” I say, exasperated. “It was a different time in our lives, okay?”

Herrmann snorts. "What other time in your lives beyond 'dumbass' did you have?"

“No comments from the peanut—” I get out before Will claps his hand over my mouth. 

“So. In traditional Kate fashion, she got absolutely _ blitzed _at—”

“That’s _ right,_” Jay says. “We started at My Chem, we went to Flogging Molly.”

I try to gnaw on Will’s hand, but he doesn’t move. “It was whiskey, wasn’t it?”

“Straight whiskey. That summer really started her whiskey obsession,” Jay mutters. 

“And when we tried to sneak into the backstage of Flogging Molly—”

“My idea!” I say, but it’s muffled.

“She tried to bite the security guard as he politely declined us access,” Will says. 

I push Will’s hand down and pin it to the bar. “You’re not even telling the story right—”

“Oh, that you affected an Irish accent and tried to tell them you were related to the band?” Jay snaps. 

“My accent was good, dammit!”

“It was good, but it wasn’t enough!” Jay says, cackling. “You couldn’t figure out why they kicked you out, you were so drunk!”

“If I remember correctly—”

“Can you remember?” Will says, extricating his hand.

“I can remember, fuck you, if I remember correctly, both of you were drunk, too.”

“Not the point of the story,” Jay says, taking a long drink from his own glass. 

Both Herrmann's and Kelley's eyes are bouncing between the three of us like a table tennis match, and then Herrmann sighs. "I'm too old to be confused like this. Too old. Gonna confuse me straight into my grave.”

Kelley's enthralled.

“We were bad, bad kids,” I say, nursing my drink. “Lord. We got up into it, didn’t we?”

“Orange Gatorade,” Jay says, gesturing with his glass. 

“Fuller Park,” Will grumbles. 

“Sneakin’ out of school and startin’ fights with the Tuckers,” I say.

Kelley snorts. "You're all so weird. I can't wait to tell your kids."

“You will tell them _ nothing_.” I point accusingly at her.

"I will tell them _ everything,”_ she giggles. 

Her phone lights up with a call, and she starts laughing harder. "It's Crockett. Answer it, Kate."

I take it and follow her instructions. “Kelley Marcks’ office, this is Kate speaking.”

"_She sent me to her_ secretary_?" _He booms, livid. "_Kate_!"

“Crockett!” I cry back. “Are you dying, or is there a body? Why are you yelling? Why are we yelling?!”

"_Tell me dumbass sister I will disown her if she pulls a stunt like this ever again_! _If Rae had-_" there's an angry screech on the other end of the phone.

I pull the phone away from my ear. “Kelley, the hell did you do to him?”

She starts giggling harder, whispering in Jay's ear, and he too, starts laughing. 

"Just wanted him to know I love him."

“I demand to know,” I say, and then into the phone, “Crockett, what has she done so I can determine the proper punishment.”

"_She put _condoms _in_ _every damn pocket of my jacket, three pairs of my jeans, and my wallet! I went to pick up groceries, and I opened my wallet to get my credit card and they fell out in front of the cashier! Fourteen of them_!" He's growling, and I can't tell if he's laughing or crying.

“_ What?” _ I wheeze. “Why the—”

Oh my God.

“_ Crockett! _” I screech, putting it on speakerphone. “Are we babysitting your nearly-stepdaughter tomorrow night so you can tap some ass?! Legally you have to tell me or it’s entrapment!”

"_Are you at Molly's_?" He asks, frantic. "_Keep your voice down. If Will or Jay… or- or Mouse found out, I'm never living this down._"

“Guess what, dude?” Greg says loudly. “Too late!”

Jay’s wheezing too hard, but Will clears his throat. 

“Glad to know you’re finding new things to do outside of work, Dr. Marcel.”

I’m wheezing myself, almost unable to hold the phone, and I nearly fall off my barstool.

"_Good_ _ God, _ " Crockett groans. "_Kelley, you moron, how did you even find this many? They're everywhere. I hate you. So much. Kate, you're not helping, and yes, you're babysitting Evie so Rae and I can finally just have one date to_ _ourselves. Stop laughing_."

“She got them from me, brother!” Mouse says, giving Kelley a high five. “We don’t need ‘em anymore!”

Will has to hold me. I can’t. I can’t breathe .

“You got enough, buddy?!” Greg says even louder. 

"_Will, any chance you can just ret-con all of these dumbasses_?" Crockett whines. "_Do I have enough… what a moron_," he mutters.

“I refuse to touch anybody, this is gold,” Will laughs. Greg just takes the phone.

“Listen, Crockett, I’m only looking out for you,” Greg says matter-of-factly. “We have all Sunday free if you need Evie to stay with us then, too. You know. So you and Rae can have ‘one date to yourselves’.”

"_Oh, I'm sick of all of you. You find this so funny_," he snarls.

“It’s all out of love, Crockett,” I sing into the phone. “All out of love.”

"Damn right, it's love," he mutters, laughing once. "Tough love."

“Which is what I hope you give Rae tomorrow night, love you, Crockett, byee!” I say, ending the call as fast as I can before he starts in again. Between Jay, Will, Greg, and Kelley, none of us can stop laughing. It’s a good feeling.


	55. You wear nothing but you wear it so well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett arrives at Raelynn's with only one thought on his mind. Raelynn, after a moment of awkwardness, eventually comes to the same conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Sex. (Joy: VERY GRAPHIC SEX)

_Tied up and twisted, the way I'd like to be_

**April 18, 2020** **  
** **1705 Hours** **  
** **1020 S. Wabash Ave. Apt. 7G, Chicago** **  
** **Raelynn**

I’m glad, suddenly, that we didn’t make reservations anywhere. Besides, we’re both adults. We both know how this is going to shake down. 

Still, my heart won’t stop pounding in my chest as I wait for his arrival. I thought about starting on some sort of dinner, but really, what’s the point?

I’m pacing. I can’t stop pacing. 

There's a knock on the door, one light rap.

Holy shit. Alright. Here we go. Take a breath. It’s going to be fine. 

I open the door with a smile. At least, I hope I don’t look nervous.

He does. He smiles at me. 

"Hey, darlin'," he says quietly.

I slip up on my tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Glad you… glad you came over. I mean, I know we planned this, I just… can’t help... “ I turn around and head towards the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

He chuckles behind me. "I'm okay," he says. "You good?"

I take my wine glass and I finish it off in one drink before pulling myself up onto the barstool. “I might have… a bigger bark than I bite.”

He hops up onto the counter, gazing at me. "We don't have to do this right now," he reminds me gently. "We could just have a quiet night in, order food, just hang out."

“Oh, no. No, no, no, I put too much preparation into this emotionally, physically,” I chuckle. God, I sound so damn nervous. I never used to be this nervous about this sort of thing. “No. Just let me ease into it. I don’t know, maybe you could finally tell me if you and Kate and Mouse actually had a threesome or if you were just pulling my chain.”

He throws his head back, laughing. "No, we didn't."

“I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed,” I say, raising my eyebrow. 

He hums. "I just get them riled up so they can go off and have fun."

“You seem to be very, very good at getting them riled up,” I whisper, hopping off the barstool. “Why don’t you… give me an example?” 

He smirks, leaning back on the counter as he slowly sheds his jacket, keeping his eyes on mine. 

"Just need to be sure you're watching," he says as he slips off the counter, moving closer.

“Oh, I’m definitely watching,” I say under my breath. The flush creeps up my chest and into my neck. 

He sees it, and his smirk gets wider as he reaches for me, his hand on my waist, his other on my cheek. And then he lets go, moving past me, behind me.

“Crockett, where are you going—” I sound  _ desperate. _

He laughs, his hands slipping around me from behind, pulling me into his body. "Desperate, I hear," he murmurs in my ear, his breath touching my skin. 

He inches closer. I shift his hands to my waist, to my waistband, leading him to the skin. I want his fingertips on my skin. And I don’t care if it’s desperate.

His fingers slip to the bare skin, trailing across my stomach slowly. "What do you want from me?" He whispers, kissing my neck.

I let my neck fall to the side, my hands covering his. “I asked you, the other day,” I murmur. “You said you didn’t deserve me. I asked you if you could handle me. You never answered.” 

He laughs lowly. 

"I'm not sure," he admits. "But I'm willing to find out."

I push his fingertips against my skin and underneath the waistband of my jeans. 

“Let’s find out, then. We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?"

He slips his fingers under the waistband, travelling lower, laying kisses on my neck. I’m done with this slow play. I’m done. I feel it in my chest, and now, like electricity as he runs his hand over me. I turn, I draw from him, and I climb up onto the countertop, reaching for his shirt.

He lets me slip it over his head, and he reaches for my chin, kissing me hard, his other hand slipping up my back. I just run my hands over his bare skin. Finally. Why the hell did we wait so long? Oh, wait. I remember. I didn’t want to fuck this one up.

My hands are on his waistband before I even have time to register it.

He shivers, leaning his head on my shoulder for a second before kissing me again. I wrap my legs around his hips and I pull him closer, running my hands up his chest. 

And then I see his scar. It… it scares me, actually. I’m not a medical doctor, but it sends a shiver down my own spine.

"Rae?" he whispers, meeting my eyes. "What's wrong? Am I moving too fast?"

“No, no, in fact, you could move a little faster,” I chuckle. “Kate… she really did save your life, didn’t she?”

There's sudden recognition in his eyes, and he glances down, his fingertips brushing over the scar. 

"She did. She did."

He looks back up to me, that smirk back on his lips. "Now, where were we?"

“I think we were about…. Here,” I say, pulling my own shirt off. 

He chuckles, his eyes running over me. "You're so damn beautiful," he whispers, almost in awe. 

“Me? Oh c’mon. This is still PG-13 me,” I say, chuckling. I pull him back into me with my legs around him, pressing myself against him. “We can up that rating a few more times, I think.”

"I'm up for that," he says, licking his lips, and then he pounces, lips on mine for an instant, then down my neck, down my chest. I lean back against the counter, letting him. God, that mouth of his. 

“You could put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, you know,” I say. 

He exhales sharply, his eyes flicking up to mine. 

And then he reaches around, unclasping my bra and letting it fall. I feel that damn flush again, but this time, it feels familiar, it feels warm, it feels like home. I lean up on my elbows, watching his expression shift, his face, as he discards the completely unnecessary item of clothing.

“You gonna stare at me, or are you gonna do something about it?”

He hums, leaning back forward, his tongue flicking to my nipple as he keeps his eyes locked on mine. The feeling already makes me shiver, almost lose my grip on the counter, and his eyes? They already make me pant. Maybe he  _ can _ handle me. The jury is still out.

He smirks, his mouth travelling south, kissing down my rib cage. He's humming against my skin. I slide down and lay my back against the cool countertop. I’m afraid I’m going to need the support, the coolness. Quite frankly, I just want him all over me, in me, everywhere, and he’s making me melt into his hands. This shouldn’t happen to me. I’m not the one to melt. I’m the one to do the melting.

I very, very much like this.

And then his mouth is gone, and his hands are yanking down my jeans. I don’t even fight him. I can’t. My hands, cold from the counter, just end up on my stomach. I’m trying to siphon off the cold to bring down the heat. 

I hear a zipper, and then he's standing, looking down at me. 

"Fancy meeting you here," I hear him say.

I’m panting already. “You are the worst. I’m literally just… I can’t… dammit, Crockett, put your hands on me.”

He chuckles. "Oh this is beautiful. You're beautiful." 

He plants his hands on my thighs, and then I feel his mouth, and his tongue swirling over me. I’m already grabbing for anything. Something. Anything. The ledge of the counter, my own body, his hair. Yeah. His hair sounds good.

He jolts a bit, and then returns to his work. 

He pushes my legs further apart so he can continue, and his eyes meet mine. It’s enough to make me arch into him, inch forward so I could have more of him, moaning. God, I sound … desperate again. I should fight for control, but when it comes to him, I can’t. I just want him.

He's humming into me, his tongue moving quicker. And then he pulls back, hands still on my thighs as he looks at me, smirking.

“Crockett,” I breathe. “Crockett, why the hell did you stop. Don’t stop. Come back.” My hands slip over my skin as I search for that feeling again, one slipping up to my chest and the other moving back down.

He slaps my hand away. 

"Don't you dare," he says. "Don't you even think about it."

I’m thinking about it. I’m for sure thinking about it. 

I smirk.

“What are you gonna do about it?” 

He stares at me. "I'll make sure," he says, eyes boring into me, and I don't even see him slip a finger into me.

I try to brace myself, but it’s not enough. I let out a whine, let my hands travel up to my chest. Even my hands are hot now. But I can’t help wanting more. That’s the only word that slips through my brain coherently. More. 

He chuckles, and almost as if he read my mind, he adds another finger. I nearly buck into him. 

“Crockett, please,” I say. I moan. I want to be touched again. I want his tongue again. I want all of him. 

"Do you think you can take it?" He asks indulgently, staring at me, still pumping his fingers into me.

“Do  _ you  _ think you can take it?” I shakily say. God, I can feel it in my toes already, but I cannot admit defeat. Not yet. Not when he has so much more in him. 

He smirks, and it's different this time. 

"Don't worry about me," he says. "Worry about yourself." 

And then he steps back, hands leaving my skin and from inside me, and he's reaching into the pocket of his jeans on the floor.

I have to touch myself. I can’t lose that tingling feeling. He’s taking too long. He’s taking way too long. 

"Hands off," he barks, not looking at me.

I laugh. “Make me.”

He's standing up, towering over me. 

"Gladly," he mutters. "Do you mind?"

It's his way of asking, making sure I still want this.

I’m stuttering, I can’t get the words out fast enough. 

“I mind that you’re  _ not  _ inside me right now.”

"I'll have to fix that, won't I?" He growls, pulling me closer to him, and then he's teasing, just at my entrance. 

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't turn around right now, why I shouldn't just leave you here like this," he teases, his eyes dark.

“Because you haven’t even touched the surface of what I want to do to you.”

"Good enough," he says, sliding into me with a sigh. I arch into him, taking him in, and it’s enough to send a shiver through me. 

He pulls me into him, and then his hands lace into mine, pinning them to the counter. 

"I'll make you behave for now," he says lowly. "Make sure you do."

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper into me, pinning him inside me. “I’d like to see you try.”

He smirks, thrusting into me. "I'd like to see you beg."

“Then give me a reason.”

He pulls out of me, still pinning my hands to the counter. "Really?" He muses.

I breathe. I have to breathe, or else he’s going to just… stop. 

“Oh, honey. You know me well enough to know I can play the long game.”

He tilts his head, staring down to me. 

I don’t have the capacity for this right now. I fight against his hands. 

He pushes harder, keeping them pinned. 

"I don't think so," he hums, sliding into me again. 

I let out a breathy moan, still fighting against his hands. 

"Listen, cher, the harder you fight me now, the harder I'll fight you later," he drawls, thrusting again. 

I let out another moan. It feels good. It feels damn good. “I have my ways of making sure you don’t.”

"Try me, darlin'," he chuckles, thrusting in again, harder now. He sets a rhythm, and keeps moving, staring down at me. 

His hands before already got me halfway there, but it’s been so damn  _ long _ since I’ve felt this. Not just the physicality. The heat in my chest. The yearning in my heart. All I know is, I want him deeper, and more, and always. 

What comes out of my mouth, though, is another moan as I arch into him and fight against his hands holding me down. 

He laughs. "I love that sound," he says, and then he lets go of my hands, holding my hips to be able to drive in deeper.

Immediately I regret it. I had a handhold before. Now, I don’t. I could never say that to him, though. We’re at war now, and I cannot bear to lose. 

"Raelynn?" He says, his eyes softening as he looks at me. "How are you doin'?"

I realize how loudly I’m panting. I cover my mouth with my hand and reach for the edge of the counter with the other. There it is again. That quiet desperation. 

“I’m… I’m great!” I barely manage, letting myself laugh. “How… how are you?”

He thrusts particularly deep, and chuckles. "I'm fine," he says, doing it again. "Can I help you?"

“You could just… not stop doing that, yeah. Yeah, that’s good.”

He laughs, pulling me deeper onto him, speeding up. His smile drops, turning into determination. 

“Yes, don’t stop,” I hear myself growling. “Crockett, yes!” My hands in my hair, his hands on me. I feel his fingers on my skin. I’m hyper aware of every part of him as I feel the tingling. I want it. I want him never to stop. 

He keeps going, harder, deeper, then leans over me, pulling me upright into him, thrusting into me, holding me closer. He's gasping, and he's still rocking into me.

I sink my fingers into his shoulders. I need him closer. I hear his breathing hitch in my ear. I can’t help but let out another moan. It’s long, it’s loud. 

"Rae," he says, voice unsteady as he pushes into me. "Raelynn, are… how are you…"

“So good, baby, please don’t stop,” I whisper. “Please, I’m…” my own breath hitches. I tighten my grip on him. 

He keeps going, and each thrust pushes me into the counter and pulls me into him. He's almost growling as he does.

"You close, Rae?"

“Extremely close,” I laugh. It’s a chaotic laugh. It’s a…. a desperate laugh. I laugh, and I can’t stop. “So close. Please, Crockett, don’t let go.”

"Never, sweetheart," he says, and suddenly he's still thrusting into me, but it's tender. He brings his hand up to my cheek, kissing me deeply.

As he kisses me, as I hold onto him, I feel my toes curl and my fingers press into him. I wonder for a moment if it’s hard enough to leave my fingerprints. I don’t even have time to say anything. His kiss sends me over.

He keeps going through it, letting me go, but his lips still on mine. 

"There you go," he whispers. "Raelynn, so beautiful, I love you," he murmurs. 

I came so hard, I’m shaking. I want to speak, I want to ask him if he’s okay, I want to ask him how he feels, but I can’t. I’m still struggling to see straight. 

I’m panting, but I manage the shakiest “I love you” I can manage. 

He brushes back my hair, still inside me, and he cradles my face in both hands. He watches me for a moment, then kisses me again. 

“I was so… I was so focused on myself, I never thought to ask how you were,” I chuckle, still breathing heavily. 

He laughs, and it's a laugh that his eyes close and he drops his head to touch mine. 

"I was focused on you," he admits. "I wanted to make you come."

“You didn’t have to stop,” I whisper. “You could have kept going, you know. Don’t mind me being all twitchy.”

He giggles, kissing me again. "Wanted to take care of you."

“You give me about two minutes and a scene change, and I will gladly take care of you.”

He giggles again. "Wonder if you can handle me," he echoes my words from earlier with a smile and a kiss to my nose.

“Oh, I’ll handle you. I’ll handle you, Marcel. You just watch. That’s with the belief I can walk, mind.”

He laughs, and then he pulls out of me, setting me steady on my feet. "Does that help?"

I whine a little. “Well, with the steadiness maybe, but not the fact that I liked you inside me.” 

"Lead me to where I need to be, and I'll be yours again." 

I have to remember how to walk. But I turn around to look at him, naked, for the first time completely. And then I nearly trip over my own feet. I’m laughing hysterically very, very suddenly.

"Hey," he says, chuckling as he catches me. "You a'right?"

“You…. damn,” I whisper. “Nice. Nice work, there, Marcel.”

He laughs, following me. "Listen, just point me where to go and I'm yours, honey," he says, a kiss on my bare shoulder. 

“Bedroom,” I order, pointing. With a giggle, I take him in my hand, slip off the condom. Not gonna need  _ that _ . “You got plenty of these, right?”

He shivers as I touch him. 

"Yeah… yeah I do, there's fourteen in my wallet, back pocket of my jeans," he mutters, distracted. 

“You got some big plans for tonight, don’t you?” I laugh. “Wait. Someone found out, didn’t they. That has Kelley written all over it. Or Kate. Or Mouse, for that matter.”

I cannot believe I have trusted my child to these people. 

"Kelley and Mouse," he sighs. "They were  _ everywhere. _ Three pairs of jean pockets full, my jacket, my wallet," he shudders. He giggles a bit.

“Remind me later to thank them,” I say, backing into the bedroom, my legs still shaky. “Bed. Now. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He whimpers, nodding. He sits down, watching me. "You always do get me with that voice," he says, gazing at me.

“Oh, you like that voice?” I say. I’ve hit my stride. I’ve always hit my stride once I climax and I’m naked in front of a man. Probably shouldn’t say that too loudly. Still, I look over him, trying to decide how I want to take him. 

“How are you feeling tonight?” I say, remembering something Kate told me. “A little sub, or a little dom?” I add with a wink. 

He shudders, his eyes closing. "Little bit sub," he whispers, a smile playing about his lips.

“You enjoy this too much,” I say. “Hmmm. You get one more choice, and then you’re mine, alright? Standing up or laying down?”

"Laying down," he says, opening his eyes just enough to look at me.

With a slight push on his shoulder, I force him down onto the bed. Hmmm. I might need supplies. 

“Wait here,” I whisper, and I head back to his discarded jeans, find his stack of condoms and head back to the bedroom.

He's waiting, watching for me, sitting up.

“On the bed, now,” I order, tossing the condoms… somewhere. I’ll find them later. 

He nods, laying down, looking up at me from under those eyelashes.

I take a heavy breath. “Not gonna work on me, Marcel,” I say, straddling him. 

He inhales shakily. "Rae…. Rae… don't… you're gonna tease me, aren't you?"

“It’s only fair,” I say, biting back my lip. I feel him, hard, beneath me, so I rub myself against him. 

He gasps. "Oh, you wicked woman," he giggles, reaching up to brush back my hair.

I grab his hand and pin it to the bed. “Nope. You’re done. This is my time. Don’t make me tie you down. Is that too soon? I mean, we’ve had a strange timeline for our relationship anyway.”

He laughs, reaching up to kiss me. "You can try, but I'm a fightin' man, my darlin'. I'd like to see you try."

“Just the way I like it,” I say. “You get one more chance,” I say, leaning down to kiss him. I let go of his hand, and I lace mine in his hair, kissing his jaw, kissing his neck.

He's shivering, slipping his now-free hand behind me, pulling me closer. "God, you're beautiful."

“Thank you, truly, but that was your last chance,” I tsk, climbing off him. I find the scarf I want in my closet. Good enough. I never wear it anyway. 

“Is this alright?” I ask at a whisper, strutting back to bed. “This won’t bother you, will it?”

He shakes his head. "Oh hell no, it's you, just… I'll let you know if it does, okay?" He smiles at me.

I just straddle him again, rubbing myself against him as I take his wrist in a loop. I lean over him, threading it through part of the bedframe. 

He just stares up at me with that goofy smile. "Just do what you're gonna do," he says breathlessly. "Please."

With a gentle smile, I restrain his other wrist then admire my work. 

“Yes, this will do. Now, where shall I start?” I say, twiddling my fingers together. “You are at my mercy, and definitely keyed up, so I could start…here?” I ask, leaning back and taking him in my hand. 

"Rae…." He whines, eyes wide, arching up into my hand.

“Oops! I think you want that too much,” I say, letting go. “How about I just start… up here.” I lean forward, kissing him deeply. I kiss him like my damn life depends on it. And when I can’t breathe anymore, I keep going, my hand on his jaw.

He's pulling against the restraints, trying to get closer to me. I draw away as he does, running my hands down his chest. 

“So, Crockett, there are a few more things I don’t know about you,” I say, getting to my destination and laying my head on my thigh. “Tell me, are you a moaner, a whimperer, or can I get you to scream my name?”

His breath hitches, watching me. "I… I could… you could probably get me doin' all that," he whispers. 

“Ah, good, just needed to know your limits,” I say, and then I run my tongue over him.

He bucks up, a wild gasp coming out of him.

"Rae, oh shit, girl," he murmurs, gazing at me.

“Oh, did you have the impression I was a sweet diplomat’s daughter?” I giggle, pulling my hair back. “Oh, Crockett, you sweet summer child.”

I take him into my mouth. I almost wonder if I should give the man a break, and then I decide the shock value is more worth it, and I take him as far as I can, until he hits the back of my throat. 

"Raelynn," he whimpers, almost thrusting into my mouth. "Rae, you…" he bites off a moan halfway through.

I push him against the bed with one hand as I draw out. 

“You’re going to let me take you like this, and you’re going to tell me when you’re, oh, three quarters of the way there,” I say, finding a condom close by and ripping it open. “And at that point, I’m going to ride you until you climax, is that clear?”

He just nods once, eyes wide, flushed, his breath coming quicker. "Yes, yes ma'am," he says quietly, beaming at me.

I get back on the bed and promptly take him to the back of my throat again. 

I hear him whimper, yanking on the restraints. "Rae, oh god, Rae, you're… you…" he says breathlessly.

I can’t even say anything to him, he’s so deep inside me. My eyes water a little, but I don’t care. I want him in my mouth. He made me come so hard, I want to return the favor. Still, I have to breathe, even as I moan against him. I take him out a little and get some help from my hand. 

“How are you feeling now?” I say, barely taking him out of my mouth long enough to say the words. I lock eyes with him as I start a pace, using my hand for extra support, taking him deep every few strokes, running my lips and my tongue along him.

He's fighting the restraints, trying to buck up into me. "Rae…" he moans, long and loud, like he's pleading for it.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I say, running my tongue over him, watching him.

"So… so good," he breathes, eyes slipping shut, trying to stay stoic. 

“Watch me,” I say, and it comes out sharp. It comes out too sharp. 

His eyes fly open wide, looking to me. He just nods shakily. "Of… of course-" he breaks off in another moan.

While I make eye contact with him, I take him all the way to my throat once more. Eyes watering. 

"Rae, baby, I'm close to close," I hear him whimper.

I take one more deep swipe on him as I grab the condom. Once I draw my mouth away, I slip it on him, and then I straddle him once more, take him in my hand, and settle down onto him once more. It’s already a familiar feeling. It’s one I’m starting to crave.

He draws in a breath, almost a whine, and he looks up to the restraints. 

"God, Rae, I just want to touch you," he whispers, meeting my eyes again. 

I rock against him, I bite back my lip. “Why would I want to do that?” I ask with a laugh. “I’ve got you exactly where I want you.” I run my hand down my own stomach, and my finger finds my center, and I let out my own moan as I rock a little harder on him.

He lets his head fall back, eyes closing again as he tries to stifle his moan in his arm.

“No, baby, I wanna hear it,” I say, whimpering a little against him. “Watch me. Eyes on me.”

He doesn't look, not yet, his voice breaking into a tiny whimper, trying to buck into me. I rest my hands on his stomach, pushing him down against the bed, and I use my leverage to take him that much harder. “Watch me. I want your eyes on mine when you come.”

His eyes meet mine, and they're glazed as he pants. He stops fighting, but he starts whispering.

"Rae, please baby, harder, do it, do it," he murmurs, voice jolting. "God, I'm begging you, baby, don't wreck me like this…"

I take him as hard and as deep as I can. It’s exhilarating. The control. The noises he’s making. The noises I’m making. It’s hard enough to focus, but my hands find my hair as I ride him.

And then that moan rips out of him, loud, desperate, almost obscene, almost a low wail. It sends a shockwave through my body, and I get a rush of adrenaline. I made that happen. I did. Everything I’ve done up until now, tonight or otherwise. 

"Rae, baby, I'm so close," he says desperately. "Want us both," he pleads. 

I have to give him what he asks. I slip my hand down between my legs again, my fingers grazing him as I try to get myself to his level. It’s not hard. I knew it wouldn’t be. I find a handhold, my fingers curled around his thigh, letting my head fall back as I both take him and get myself close. And as I rock against him, him slick inside me, I find myself suddenly gasping. 

"Baby, you with me?" He asks, gasping with me, and then he's shuddering.

It’s all I can do to nod. I’m breaking my own rule, shutting my eyes tight, as I gasp against him and my own hand.

He's gasping and panting and then he jerks his hips just enough to send me flying forwards.

I can only chuckle when I try to catch myself. “Damn you, Crockett,” I laugh, but it starts to come out as a moan.

He meets my eyes, and then he's shuddering against me, and there it is. He's calling my name, eyes shut, shaking and gasping. I grab for the sheets on either side of him, pressed against him, and I can feel him inside me. It sends me over the damn edge. 

He knows what he’s doing. 

He's panting, and then he's going limp, beginning to laugh, a tired, satisfied laugh. I reach up and pull his wrists free before just laying down on top of him. I’m nearly spent. I used to do this all night. If I survive the evening, I’ll be satisfied. 

His hands go around me, pulling me close, closer. 

"Good Lord, Raelynn," he murmurs, still trying to catch his breath.

“Told you you couldn’t handle me,” I say, almost hoarse.

"That'll teach me to get cocky," he agrees with a laugh. "Baby, that was… that was ridiculously hot."

“What can I say?” I finally push myself back up, take a heavy breath, and brush my hair back. I’m surprised it didn’t get in my way. He’s staring at me. “What?” 

"You're so beautiful. You're beautiful," he says, hands pushing himself to sit up. 

“You just came down from an extremely satisfying climax, and that’s all your monkey brain can think to say,” I lean down and kiss him.

He giggles into my lips, hands pulling me closer. I sigh, exhausted, into his kiss. I don’t want to pull away from him, but I know I’m going to have to, sooner or later. 

“Well, I had intentions of cooking tonight, but I’m going to tell you right now, that’s going to be impossible with my jelly legs,” I say, my lips still touching his as I speak.

"Still beautiful. Like your jelly legs," he whispers.

“You were right, you know. Moaner,” I say, kissing his jaw. “Whimperer,” I say, kissing his neck. “A bit of a screamer,” I say, kissing his mouth.

He sighs, lips roaming my jaw. "So damn beautiful. You're hot. More than hot. You're so amazing. Powerful," he whispers, lips by my ear.

“Barely scratched the surface there, Marcel,” I say arching into him a little. I can still feel him inside me. Kind of want it again. Probably shouldn’t push it. I still want to scream his name.

And then he smirks. That adrenaline is back. 

“Crockett..” I say, slightly worried. “What’s goin’ on in that noodle of yours?”

"Try and find out," he whispers, and then he flips us, and he's on top of me. I can’t help but let out a little giggle. 

“Oh, you think you can dominate me, do you?” I can’t stop laughing. “You were like… you disintegrated in my hands! You were like butter! You soft, beautiful man.” 

He laughs, and then he pulls out of me, fingers holding my chin in place. I straighten a little underneath him. Alright. Alright, I could get used to this. 

I pull his hand away. “Try me.”

He shakes his head, and then I feel his hand on the back of my head, a handful of hair, and he gives me the tiniest shake. "Don't test me, Harlowe-Moore. Do not test me," he says, voice stern.

I let out a little whimper. I try not to, but it slips out. “I would very much like to test you, Marcel.”

He laughs, but it's almost dark. 

"You'll lose."

He places his hands on my waist, shoving me up on the bed. He takes the scarf I had used on him and looks at me. 

"May I?" He asks, sweetly and seriously. "I just need to be sure."

“Oh, Lord, yes, please, do it and do it now,” I say very quickly. 

The smirk returns, and he moves beside me, quickly looping my arms to the bedframe. He makes it tight, smiling down at me, and he leans down, kissing me hard. He's nipping at my lip, hand weaving back into my hair.

I pull against the restraints for good measure, trying to chase his lips with mine. 

He pulls back, chuckling. 

He thinks. "Stay still," he orders, and then disappears down the hall. I don’t know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter. I inch up a little and start trying to unknot one of my restrained wrists. 

"Hands. Off."

He's standing at the door, a hand behind his back, staring at me. 

I give him a sweet smile. And then I pull the knot. 

“Oops.”

He comes closer, and shakes his head. 

"You're a literal child," he mutters, and he pulls his woolen scarf from behind his back. "I had a feeling you'd pull some stunt," he says conversationally. 

He grabs one of my ankles, looping the end of the scarf around and slipping the scarf through the bedframe to do the same on the other side. 

"Now listen, Rae, I will tie you up, and I will not spare you mercy if you do it again," he whispers, but there's a twinkle in his eye as he reattached my wrist.

I just stare at him. “I’m gonna have to buy real restraints, aren’t I? I’m gonna have to. This is gonna be a thing, isn’t it? Our little power struggle. It’s never gonna end. It’s never gonna end, is it?”

He hums. "Do you want it to end? I can make it end if you so wish, my dear."

“If you would end this span of time without your hands on me, that would be fantastic, thanks.”

"Now why would I do-" he lays a kiss on my bare stomach, "-something so easy as that?"

“Because I am your beautiful, hot, amazing, powerful girlfriend.”

His mouth is open, like he was going to say something, but he shakes his head. 

"Fine," he says, in that tone. 

"You want my hands on you? You get them."

One hand slips down, his finger slipping into me while the other hand rolls my nipple between his fingers. 

I try to move, I try to shift, but I can’t. I can’t. He’s got me too tightly attached to this damn bed, is that what this feels like? It’s…  _ hot _ . I can’t imagine why I would ever want to escape from this, but he has to think I want to. I try to lift myself off the bed, try to get more of his hands on me, in me. 

"Back stays on the bed. You get up, I take my hands away," he says sternly.

“Then give me a damn reason to lie back and think of England, Marcel!”

In retaliation, he adds another finger, and his lips clamp down around the nipple he was just playing with.

Oh, God. Barely one night and he already knows my kinks. Tying me up on a bed and the like. I try to breathe, but all I can do is watch him, naked, have his damn way with me. 

He smirks, eyes flicking up to mine, and he allows the tiniest graze of teeth on my nipple, the same instant he crooks his fingers inside me.

I try to squirm against his fingers, I need more, I need his fingers. I’m devolving into some sort of monster. I want his teeth. I want him. I just want  _ him. _

"Want more, darlin'?" He purrs, watching me.

I gasp for breath, and it comes out louder than I had initially intended. He seems pleased about it. “Now, Crockett, you should just know how much a lady can take. Besides, you’ve been very rude. You never asked me if I was a moaner, whimperer, or screamer.”

"I don't need to ask," he smirks. "I already have the answer." And he slips a third finger in, thrusting his fingers in and out of me, his other hand reaching down, rubbing circles over my center. 

I can’t help but arch into him. It’s a visceral reaction. I’m already so sensitive, and I haven’t done this in ages. My ego might be writing checks my body can’t cash, but I have to stay strong. I have to. 

I can’t stop whimpering. I sound like a fool.

"Raelynn," he calls softly, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Look at me. Eyes on me."

I’m already hazy, my eyes are almost out of focus. He’s got me so amped, my adrenaline surging so fast, I almost can’t focus on him. 

“Nooo,” I say in a quiet voice. “Put your hand back.”

"I don't think I will," he purrs, his hand holding down my stomach as he lowers his head, his tongue touching me once more.

I pull against my bonds. I can’t help it. I’m not doing it on purpose, really. My knees just shift, and I have to suppress the urge to wrap my fingers into his hair and push his mouth onto me. He’s left me with nothing left but the constant sensation he’s giving me, and I can’t stop  _ fucking _ whimpering.

And then he slips a fourth finger in, driving his fingers into me deeply, laughing from where his tongue is swirling over me.

I let out a moan. It’s useless to fight it now. I’m done. Any power I had over him before, it’s gone. He’s tied me to the bed, he’s so deep inside me, I’ve become an animal. I twitch against him, letting out a much louder moan this time, as he hits me just right.

"Beg," he growls, and he's watching me. "I want to hear you."

My brain says  _ no, don’t do it, that’s not your style, fight it _ but the words that come out of my mouth are “please. Don’t stop. Crockett, please. Please.” 

That breathy voice is decidedly not mine. 

I feel the electricity in my toes, in my fingertips, and I start letting out a moan again, my head rolling back onto the pillow.

He drives his fingers deep in me, hitting inside me as his other hand holds me down. 

"Good," he says approvingly. "Louder," he orders, his fingers crooking inside me, and he chuckles.

I’m begging for it, I know I am, but the words don’t come out coherent. I don’t think I’m even saying words, but then end in a louder moan. 

"There's a good one," he nods. "Love when you make that noise. I love it. Are you close, darlin'?" 

I grab onto the scarf. I have to find leverage against him. 

“So close,” I hear my hoarse voice cry. “Don’t stop.”

He leans down to whisper in my ear as his fingers ram into me again. "You'll have to beg me to stop. You'll come when I allow you."

He kisses me deeply, slowing the pace a bit. It makes me shudder. I’m shaking. I’m shaking and it doesn’t stop. 

“Please, Crockett,” I say weakly. “Please let me. Please.”

He kisses me again, staring into my eyes. 

Just when it feels too long, he nods. "Go ahead." 

It’s like the permission is all I need to let go. I’m incoherent. I’m trying to cry out, I’m trying to say his name, but it comes out a squeak, a whine, a whimper. I try to get a grip on anything, but I’m so tied up, I can’t move. It’s all I can do. I just climax around him, and it shoots through me so hard, I’m dizzy. 

And then his teeth are on my nipple again, his fingers still pumping. He hasn't stopped. He isn't stopping.

Neither am I. I try to stifle my cry in my pillow. It doesn’t help. I try to gain some sort of leverage, and I can’t. I just feel myself pulsing against him, and he just doesn’t stop. The tears run from my eyes. 

"Louder, baby, let me hear you," he says, switching to my other nipple, his fingers thrusting deeper.

It’s low. It’s guttural. I can’t stop. I’m shaking, and I can’t stop, and his teeth and his tongue against me force me down against the bed. Is this what it feels like? Is this what I did to him?

"Good girl," he purrs, his thumb rubbing over my center as he still thrusts his fingers into me. "I won't stop until you make me stop."

Damn him and his power play. But I jolt against him, when he touches me, and I don’t want to give up. I want him to be the one to give up, but I’m not in a position to do that. I’m not in a position at all. I’m a sweaty, pulsing, shaking mess, my hair plastered to my face as I try to fight a battle that both of us are winning.

And then he's kissing me again, nipping, biting, his hand on my cheek.

"Just give up," he whispers into my mouth.

I can’t respond. I just bite for his lip. 

"Is that a submission?" He mocks, cupping his hand to his ear. 

I won’t say a word. I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to, but I can’t stop. I think I’m hyperventilating at this point. I can’t gasp enough air. 

"The sooner you admit defeat, the sooner you can try to take me again," he taunts me, bending his fingers inside me.

“Crockett, please,” I say, “You have to… I’m gonna pass out, you have to stop, you… you have to…”

With a sigh, he pulls his fingers from me, dripping wet, and he meets my eyes, his tongue flicking out to taste. I can barely focus, the green and the black slipping around my vision, as my body still shakes like he’s inside me. 

He reaches forwards, undoing my wrists and the ankles. He sits back, watching me as he continues to clean me off his hand. 

“You’ve gotta say,” I say hoarsely, “I… I went pretty far. You… you almost made me black out.”

He can't help beaming at me. "I did that?"

“Don’t play coy with me,” I say, barely squeaking it out. I brush my hair back, my legs still shaking. “I came for like, three minutes straight. No one else’s hand was deep inside me.”

He looks so pleased with himself. 

"So beautiful," he whispers, crawling forward to kiss me. "Looked so beautiful, so hot, so messy, so… so  _ desperate. _ "

“Oh, I’ll take it out on you later,” I say, getting enough of my shaky strength to sit up against the bed. “Jesus, Crockett. Had I known you were gonna do  _ that _ , I would have snogged you a little harder at the gala.”

He chuckles, shrugging. "Didn't actually realize what I was doin' until I was," he admits.

“I would love to be your test subject then,” I say, staring wide eyed into the bedspread. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re gonna need Kate and Mouse and Kelley to do a  _ lot _ of babysitting.”

He laughs, pulling me into him for a kiss. "That can be arranged, darlin'. That can be arranged."

I try to slide off the bed, but my legs very nearly give out.

"Hey, easy, easy now," he says, trying to catch me. "You're a bit of a jellyfish, Rae."

“Listen, we need to order food and chill out before the next round,” I say breathlessly. “Listen to me. You’re gonna have to do it. I’m hoarse from… from screaming too loud and… and…” I lower my voice. “Taking your cock all the way into my throat!”

"Firstly," he says, looking at me. "Firstly, that's very hot, I did not expect it. It's something I didn't realize I enjoyed until tonight." He kisses my forehead. "Second, I told you I didn't have to ask if you were a moaner, whimperer, or screamer," he says smugly.

I squint my eyes at him angrily. He knows it's fake. “I’m not just a test subject to you, Marcel. I’ll take you any day of the week. In more ways than one.”

He chuckles, petting my hair. "I'm looking forward to it, darlin'."

I shake my head, making my way into the kitchen to find my cell phone. I toss it to him. 

“Want to order something, and then we can do this again before the delivery person appears?”

He snorts. "I'm ready."

“Pizza will take about half an hour, and Chinese will be… about forty-five, I think.”

"Chinese it is, then."


	56. I'm on my way, driving at ninety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raz makes the final introductions Kelley needs—to the five remaining members of the Rasmussen family. While she’s definitely terrified, Becky leads the way as Kelley meets Rosalie, Matty, Finn, Matt, and Alex Rasmussen.

_Down these country lanes, singing to "Tiny Dancer"_

**April 25, 2020** **   
** **1656 Hours** **   
** **10153 S Lowe Ave., Chicago** **   
** **Kelley**

I'm hanging onto Tommy's hand, I don't think there's anything else I can do to stay still. My knee wants to bounce but no. Don't do that. Tommy's hand in mine. I like that. I get to meet his family.

I get to meet the family of the man I love and am currently doing.

Maybe keep that  _ off _ the end of the introductions?

_ 'Hi I'm Kelley Marcks, firefighter, I love your son/brother. To sum it up, been there, done that, currently doing him.' _

I squeeze Tommy's hand tighter as I make myself giggle, and it's just a tad bit hysterical.

He glances at me, and he steps in front of me. 

“Okay. So. Here’s what you’re going to need to know,” he whispers. We’re damn close to the house. I feel eyes boring into me. “Matty, he’s… well, relatively normal. Rosalie, she will ask you  _ everything _ . Don’t tell her everything, she’ll just keep asking. Finn… everyone loves Finn, just try not to fall into his traps. I’m making you more nervous, aren’t I?”

I must look scared, and I'm nodding. "I don't want to screw this up!" I whisper loudly.

He takes my face in his hands. “You won’t. You’re not gonna. Just be yourself. Just… Yeah. Yeah, we got this, okay?”

He sounds just as nervous as I do.

I wrap my arms around him, head on his chest. 

"I love you," I say softly. "I'm… I'm sorta scared."

“I love you,” he whispers. “We’re both gonna be scared together, okay?”

I don’t have time to respond, because I hear a loud voice. 

“Kelley!  _ It’s time!” _

Tommy groans at the sound of his twin. Becky bounces up behind him and winks at me. 

“You ready for the inquisition?” She says in a ghostly voice.

I look at Tommy with wide eyes. 

She waves me off. “Nah. You’re gonna be fine. Dad’ll just squint at you for a while, Mom will ask if you’ve eaten enough, Rosalie will ask you every Goddamn question in the book, and Finn? Don’t let Finn get you. He will. Matty... “ She thinks for a second. “He might be your best comrade in all this. You snag him in one, and he’ll back your play. You warned her all this, right, Tommy?”

He chuckles. “Almost word for word.”

I groan. "I am right here. I am right here, and I am  _ terrified. _ I don't do families," I say, a little desperately. "I've never met my partner's family before." I reach for Tommy. "I'm staying for you, if I run out that door, or look like it, do what you gotta do."

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s never brought anyone home,” Becky says, gesturing towards the door. “I can literally feel Finn’s eyes on me, so we should probably get in there, yeah?”

I grip Tommy's hand tightly, and I land a gentle peck on his lips. "Okay, I'm ready."

Becky just looks at the two of us as we start walking up the sidewalk.

“What?” Tommy asks, and she tsks.

“You guys banged,” she says matter-of-factly. 

I freeze, still holding onto Tommy. 

I look at Becky, reach out my hand, and tell her very seriously, "'Hi I'm Kelley Marcks, firefighter, I love your brother. To sum it up, been there, done that, currently doing him."

She looks from me to Tommy and back to me again. And then she holds up both hands.

“High fives, everybody.”

I tentatively slap her hand, looking at Tommy. He’s almost shocked, but slaps her hand. 

“Good. Got that out of your system?” She says, eyeing the two of us. “Not gonna say that inside, right?”

I pout. "Wasn't planning on it."

“Alright. I love you both. If I cut you off, I’m not being rude. I’m saving your asses. Let’s go.”

And she heads up onto the porch and opens the door.

Tommy follows, at his sister’s behest, nearly dragging me with him. 

“Guys! We’re here!” Becky calls out. 

I follow, and I take a deep breath. I smile. 

Who am I kidding? Think about a bunch of Tommys. 

I'm smiling.

The first one to come down the stairs is a slight, blonde young woman. About fifteen, I think, with her hair cut short in almost a bob. She gives me a critical look. 

“You’re Kelley,” she says, with the authority of an elder God. 

I nod. "You must be…. Rosalie?"

She leans over the banister to shake my hand. Becky lets out a groan. 

“Rosalie, you don’t have to be so weird.”

“I’m being formal.”

“You’re being weird,” Becky says, leaving her sister with us.

I smile at her. "Glad to meet you," I whisper to Rosalie.

“Thank you,” she sighs. “At least  _ someone _ can be polite!” She calls to Becky.

“Suck it, Rosie!” She yells back.

“Language!” I hear a tired man’s voice respond. 

“Tom’s girlfriend is here,” Becky says, and there’s a crash and a gasp in the kitchen.

"Oh shit," I whisper under my breath, crowding closer to Tommy.

He sighs. “It’s fine, it’s just mom, she probably just got overexcited, c’mon,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me towards the kitchen. Rosalie follows behind.

When we make it to the kitchen, Becky and who I assume is Tommy’s mother are fumbling with some fallen pots and pans. Rosalie clears her throat and his mom straightens, a wide smile on her face. 

"Hi, Mrs. Rasmussen, you look like a way prettier Dana Perino, and she's pretty so… you're way prettier!" I say and then I smack myself in the head. I smile and then I hide my face in Tommy's arm. "Why can't I ever shut up?"

“Oh my God, she’s a Conservative and awkward, are you sure you’re not already a Rasmussen?” She says, laughing. “Tom, where did you find her?!”

"Hockey!" I crow. 

She puts the pans she was holding into Becky’s hands and suddenly I’m dragged into a hug. 

“Kelley, I’m Alex. That Mrs. Rasmussen thing is a mouthful, and if you’re anything like us, you start saying it and it comes out wrong anyway.”

I look at Tommy with wide eyes. "She's my mom now." 

“I told you she was pretty great,” he says, nodding. 

“Standing right here,” Becky mutters. 

Alex doesn’t let me go, and just keeps talking. “The boys are out at the grill, they’re doing burgers and hot dogs and steak, I’m working on some cheesy potatoes if I can keep this kitchen organized,” she says. She’s still clutching onto me. “We’ve got some macaroni salad and chips and everything too. Oh, I’m so sorry Kelley.”

She doesn’t make a move to let me go still, even as she realizes I’m still in her embrace.

I giggle and kiss her cheek. "I don't mind. I have a mom again," I say, squeezing her back. 

“Tom, why don’t you go check on your brothers and your dad?” She says, gesturing her head to the back door. 

“Did you remember what I told you?” He says, before heading out.

“Yeah, no sunflower seeds, got it,” Alex says. 

“Kelley, do you still have your Epipen just in case?” He asks me quietly. 

I kiss his cheek. "In my purse, honey, thank you. I forgot completely."

He gives me a smile before walking out the back door. As soon as he’s clear, Alex finally lets me go, and she turns to Becky and Rosalie. 

“Who the  _ hell _ is that?!”

“I don’t know,” Becky says, almost like I’m not there. “He’d forget his shoes if they weren’t tied on.”

“What have you done to him?” Rosalie says, almost accusingly, to me.

"First, yes, thank you Rosalie, I'm right here, and second, isn't he always like this? He's adorable, and he's always remembered everything?" I say, confused.

Becky just goes to the sink and starts washing potatoes, muttering something to herself. 

“He’s more responsible now,” she says simply. “You have something to do with it.”

“Of course she does, dear,” Alex says, finding the pan she wants for the potatoes. “Look at her. She’s gorgeous. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t do anything he could to make her happy.”

"She's right here," I say awkwardly. "He punches people now, he tell you that? I never saw him do that before." I'm not sure what I'm saying, and I don't remember if I clarified hockey.

Alex twirls around, and I expect her to look angry or shocked but she just looks… surprised and pleased. 

“My boy? My sweet, darling eldest son, got into a  _ fight? _ ”

Becky stops cleaning potatoes. “I want to know every dirty detail.”

“He doesn’t get into fights,” Rosalie explains. “He’s highly non-confrontational.”

"He decked the asshole- oops- guy who had been giving him problems for years on our team… he finally quit the team, so no more Dags. And he… well… he also took out… yeah, um. Yep." 

I'm stuttering now.

“He… he took out that asshole who kept…” Alex says. She’s almost overwhelmed. “Dags. Dagney, right? He’s been on Tom’s case for  _ years! _ He took him out?!”

Becky, at this point, is binge eating chips out of the large bag. 

I smile shyly. "He also went berserk mode on a guy during a game."

“Why?” Becky says, her mouth full of potato chip. “C’mon. Full details. Let’s go.”

"The guy sort of… kind of…" I can't find a good way to say it. "Cornered me on the ice and Hulk-smashed me, like Hulk did to Loki in the 2012 movie?" I demonstrate vaguely. "Pummeled me a few good times, and then Tommy went  _ nuts.  _ He went full berserker on the guy. I only wish I was less concussed and bloody so I could've watched."

“You’re not permanently hurt, are you?” Alex immediately asks. “Of course not, you’re here. He just pounded the guy?”

“Appears that way,” Rosalie says, stealing chips from Becky’s bag. 

Alex picks up her knife and gestures a little with it. “You’re doing a number on that boy alright.” She sighs, and looks out the window. I can see Tommy, and who I assume are his two brothers and his dad. I can’t get a good look at them right now, but Tommy is on his hands and knees, looking at the grill, trying to fix something. “I’m sure you’ve realized he has a bit of a confidence issue.”

My eyes water a bit. "Yeah… yeah, I know. He's getting better."

“He’s always been too gentle for his own good,” she sighs, going back to cutting potatoes. “Lets people walk all over him. Always trying to please others before himself. I’m surprised he didn’t end up going to college for a degree he didn’t want or need because everyone told him to.”

“He’s right where he should be,” Rosalie says. It’s the first real smile I see on her face since we met.

"Maybe it's too soon to tell you," I start nervously, "But you need to know. Mom - Alex! I mean Alex, I love… I love Tommy. A lot."

She wipes her hands on the towel in front of her, “Kelley, he’s already told us,” she begins. “Firstly, we know. If you can’t tell, we’re… we’re a close family. We don’t really keep secrets. We’re… we’re simple. We like things that way. Secondly, from just… just today so far, and what he’s told us… he’s lucky to have someone like you. Very lucky. Not that we don’t think Tom could pick a good one, but… from the moment he talked about you, we all knew he had finally found her. I trust my boy. He’s never needed to search for my approval. I knew whoever he picked would…” She sighs, trying to regain her train of thought. “If Tom picked  _ you _ , he doesn’t need my approval, because I trust him, and I love him. Thirdly, Mom is fine. If you haven’t noticed, there are five children of varying ages calling me that already, I’m not gonna be bothered by another blonde twenty-something yelling it at me, too.”

After her speech, she just.. Goes back to cutting potatoes.

I hug her from behind. "Thank you. That… that means a hell of a lot."

\---------------------

After helping to finish preparing the side dishes—mostly potatoes. A lot of potatoes—we finally head out into the back yard. While it’s small—which, I know, is typical in these neighborhoods—they’ve got an amazing set up of a grill, a set of table and chairs, and a picnic table, all on a bricked patio. Without even saying a word, Rosalie dips her hand into the open cooler and brings out an orange Gatorade and hands it to me.

"You… you are a heaven-sent blessing," I tell her, beaming. "I don't have enough words to convey my utter and adoring gratitude."

She just points at Tommy. “He warned us. Coffee or orange Gatorade. Figured we could make coffee after dinner.”

I'm beaming. I can't help it. 

"What did I do to deserve Tommy and a family like this?" I hum as I take a drink.

“You took a detour right past the weird and stuck the landing,” the youngest Rasmussen says. 

"You're Finn, right?"

He’s the first one I’ve seen so far to really not look like Alex. He’s got dark hair, like his dad, who has still to acknowledge me, as he’s working hard on the grill. 

But Finn, who couldn’t be more than thirteen or so, is already taller than me, and wears a Blackhawks t-shirt. 

“Most days,” he says with a sigh.

"Most days?" 

“Stop being existential, you’re like, nine,” the only other adult says. “Hey, Kelley, one… one second…”

He stops fiddling with the grill and Tommy just gives me a forced grin. 

When he turns, the plaid-clad patriarch of the Rasmussen clan finally turns, and he gives me the once over, squinting a little. 

“Well, hello,” he says, shooting a glance at Tommy. “Hi. Dad. Nice to meet you.”

"You look like a solid pillar of our community. I am glad to meet you," I say, reaching a hand out. "Kelley Marcks. Firefighter."

“Well, then,” he says, reaching out to shake my hand. “Uh, Matthew Rassmussen, small business owner? Is that how we do things here?”

I drop my voice low. "I don't know, I'm nervous as hell and I get formal when I do."

He chuckles, throws a thumb in Tommy’s direction. “Have you  _ met _ my son? At least you can speak when you’re nervous. He gets all stuttery. Poor kid. Still somehow snagged you, though.”

I smile at Tommy, and I love him. I love him.

"More like I snagged him," I say, beaming. "And don't be so sure. I can be pretty hyper."

He just peers at me, like he’s trying to read me. It’s a little frightening. “So. Firefighter.”

"Yes, sir," I say, and I'm standing at attention before I think about it. 

“What house?” He asks, stealing Becky’s chip bag as she walks by.

"51, sir. Engine crew, under Lieutenant Chris Herrmann."

“Engine,” he harrumphs. “Damn. You’re all up in it, then, aren’t you? Even worse than Tom. Hey!” He calls to Tommy. “You warn her about how you’re always all up in that dangerous shit, right?”

He nods, almost panicked.

"I am aware, sir. I'm right in… right in there. Yeah. Usually strike and overhaul team, unless ordered to extract victims."

“You’re like…” he holds a hand out from about his shoulder. “You’re tiny. You extract victims?”

“You’re huge,” the final Rasmussen says. He looks most like his father, with the dark hair and the strong jaw. “Hey. Matty.”

“The normal one,” Becky chuckles quietly behind me. 

"Hey, Matty. I'm Kelley," I say, reaching out a hand. He takes it. I get a good look at his t-shirt—Rasmussen & Son Electric Company. 

"Family business much?" I joke.

“It’s kind of a thing,” Matty shrugs. “Hey, I like it. Good money in it, too.”

“You’re nineteen,” calls Becky. “Stop talkin’ like you’re forty.”

"Gotta get that money," I snicker to him, ignoring Becky. 

“So, Tom said you’re originally from Canada,” Rosalie says, sitting down at the picnic table. “Why did you come to Chicago?”

“Rosie, c’mon,” Tommy says under his breath, sitting down across from her at the table. 

"I uh, needed a change," I say. Am I still at attention? I feel like I should be. 

“Can you give the girl a break?” Becky says. “This ain’t the Spanish Inquisition.”

She eyes me. She seems the most skeptical of them all, but she settles down into her seat. 

“How do you like it so far?” Finn asks, sitting down with his siblings. He tries to take the chip bag from Becky, but she slaps his hands away. 

"Been here… almost three years now, it's pretty damn nice," I say. I smile at Tommy. "I have a brother, and I have another family, and I have a loving boyfriend, yeah it's pretty good."

“Yeah, you kinda had no choice in this one,” Alex—mom?—adds. 

“You kinda just…. walk into the Rasmussen household and never walk out,” Becky says with a wink. 

"I'm perfectly fine with that."

————

“If his  _ sister _ didn’t think it was hilarious, it would’ve been scary,” Alex continues. “She thought it was the funniest thing in the universe.”

“It  _ was! _ ” Becky defends herself. She’s pacing in the dusk light, gesturing with her glass. It spills a little onto the grass. “Objection! Badgering the witness!”

“At any rate,” Alex continues. “I find my twin children locked in the bottom part of the hutch, one of them happy as a clam and the other, his hand all cut up because he thought he could try to beat out the back— which was up against the wall. Should’ve got it on video. Would be a millionaire.”

Tommy doesn’t look up from his placement of his head resting against the picnic table. 

“And that’s why ya boy is claustrophobic!” Becky adds with a flourish. 

I lean my head against his. "It's okay," I whisper. "You already know half my fears. And Marcel's, come to think of it. I love you," I whisper again, kissing the side of his ear.

Finn makes gagging noises. Becky just smacks him upside the head. 

“What about the slingshot?” Matt says. “I coulda ended you for that.”

“Told her,” Becky says. 

“Marching band sprained ankle?” Matty offers. 

“Did it.”

“Did he tell you about how he got the scar on his eyebrow?” Becky says, clapping once and pointing at me.

I look at Tommy. He groans into the night sky.

“He was like, three,” Becky says. “Almost Christmas. Wanted to look in his stocking, just checking. Pulled on it, cast iron stocking holder went  _ wham _ on his head.”

“That’s why he’s like this,” Finn says. Matty smacks him. 

"I love him like this," I say, rubbing his shoulders. "I'm just sorry -- not really, of course -- you don't get to hear my embarrassing stories," I joke.

“We would definitely take them,” Finn says. 

“Please, for the love of God, save me,” Tommy whispers. 

I lean closer, and I kiss his cheek. "I love you."

I straighten up. "The time he put his glasses on me to see how they'd look and then he tripped over the coffee table." 

“He’s almost legally blind,” Becky confirms. “I have perfect vision.”

“You stole it all in utero,” he grumbles. 

"That's okay baby, you're prettier."

Becky gasps but I can tell it’s mock anger. 

“I’d try to fight you for it, but you would kick my ass,” she comments. 

“That’s something I would like to see,” offers Rosalie. 

"Becks, remember," I say, winking at her. "I'm a hockey player."

“Yeah, that’s what scares me!” She says. “Also, Tom, what’s this about you kicking some ass on the ice?”

He just lifts his head up, and the backyard is quiet, as he looks to me, almost asking for permission. 

I just nod. 

“Well, uh,” he begins. “Which fight?”

The family all has different expressions: the women, who already knew, all look variously proud and excited. The men, however, are shocked.

“Are you shitting me?” Matt says, grasping the bottle of his beer. “This kid? My Thomas? Thomas Michiel Rasmussen?”

"Yep!" I kiss Tommy's forehead. "Also I have your middle name now, so be prepared for that later," I whisper.

He whispers in my ear, “Not fair, don’t get me worked up right now.”

"Always. Fight me, Razmuffin."

“Later,” he mutters. “So, the fight,” he says full voice, shifting in his seat. I giggle. “The first one was a game. West Town Ruskies.”

A collective groan goes through the group. 

“Berkowitz,” he says. “He, uh, he’s got this vendetta against our friend Kate. It kinda bled over to Kelley since she joined the team. Kate started fighting Berkowitz at first, and Bricks went after Kelley, and next thing I know, she’s got Bricks on the ground, and he’s just,  _ bloody. _ Both of them. Mouse—oh, my friend, Kate’s husband—he held me back, but eventually I got loose and went over there, but I got there as soon as the ref did. Didn’t fight him that time. They ended up in the box.”

“You didn’t fight him, though,” Matty adds.

“Not yet,” Tommy says. He’s almost getting more enthusiastic, and I think I see why. The entire family surrounds him, listening to the story on bated breath. “We were like, seven to zero, and they pull their goalie.”

“There’s no point to that,” Finn says. “Who would pull their goalie that far behind?”

‘Exactly,” Tommy says. “No point. Other than bringing in another enforcer. Which is what they did. All I saw was Kate get slammed against the boards, and while we were distracted with that, Kelley got double teamed. Bricks and Berks. I didn’t even think about it. I just… clotheslined Berkowitz.”

Becky lets out a loud laugh. “Ser-seriously? You’re serious.”

“Witnesses and all,” Tommy says. ‘Mouse got into it too. I got thrown off, he went back. I just… I jumped on him. I straight up tackled the guy. I kinda… I stopped knowing what I was doing, I just had to pummel him, Get him off of Kelley. Didn’t care. Just.. beat his ass. Broke some knuckles.”

"Thank you for that, honey," I say softly. "If you hadn't gotten him off in time, I probably would've gotten a worse concussion or a neck injury, with the way he was punching me."

“ _ Hell yes, _ ” Finn says. “Wait. No. That’s not what I mean. I just… I love hockey,” he grumbles.

“We know what you meant, bud,” Alex says. “But we don’t want her getting hurt, okay?”

“I like the fight stories,” he admits.

“Me too,” Rosalie says. “Tell us about the other one.”

"The other was Dags. Between Dr. Marcel—he's uh, he's the one who basically adopted Kelley, her... her brother," he explains, but they all seem to know. He must have talked about him before. "Between he and I, we got him to finally quit the team."

“He’s been an asshole to Tom since he joined the team,” Becky says. “Good fu--” she stops. “Good riddance.”

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Matt says. 

“So, Dags had started in on Kate, and Kelley, and Crockett, and I snapped. I just punched him. I think I yelled at him. I don’t remember. Got a little mad. Dags, uh, he never got a punch on me, though. After, Crockett just threw him on the lockers and verbally annihilated him. He quit right after.”

“Nice,” is all Finn can say. Matt reaches forward and clinks his beer bottle with Tommy’s. 

“Good job. Stand up for your lady, stand up for your friends. Not that you need the help,” Matt says with a wink at me. “Not that you need the help, but it’s always good to have it.”

"Thank you. Yes, you understand it," I grin at him. 

I kiss Tommy's cheek then whisper in his ear. "It's a good thing I'm not letting them meet Crockett. The two of you would spill beans about me. I like hearing your beans better."

“I’ll spill  _ your _ beans,” he mutters, “Wait. No, yeah. I’ll spill ‘em later.”

"I'll be ready," I snort. 

“No, you won’t,” he barely whispers. I just lean my head on his shoulder. 

"In interest of full disclosure," I say, giggling. "I'm a klutz too. If you saw how many times I've flat tired on the ice or slipped off a ladder, or hell, fallen out or off of the rig, you'd want me far away from this one."

“I’m an electrician,” Matt says. “You can’t imagine the stupid shit we’ve both done  _ and _ seen. Hey, you got someone close that does inspections?”

"Our truck captain is a contractor on the side."

He gestures with his bottle to Matty. “Told you.”

“You’re a good person to know,” Matt says, grinning. “Could use him.”

"I'll let him know!" I smile. 

“So,” Finn says, “you met through hockey, right?”

“Careful,” Becky whispers. “It’s a trap.”

"Yep!" I'm holding Tommy's hand, and I think I'm okay. Can't be too bad of a trap.

“When did you meet? How did you get together?”

Behind us, Becky starts singing the Jaws theme. 

I giggle. "Met… well, Tommy? Care to lay it out there?"

He grumbles a little. “They definitely already know. I’ve told them.”

Finn smiles at me sweetly. “I wanted to hear it from your side.” 

“It’s a trap!” Becky calls out like that Star Wars character. In retaliation, Matty gets up and pulls Finn to his feet. 

“Come on, dude, leave her alone,” he says, and Finn glances at me over his shoulder as they head to the basketball hoop.

“He will be back,” Becky says ominously. “It may not be tonight, or tomorrow, but he will be back for you.” 

“Which reminds me, Kelley,” Alex says. “When will you be gracing us with your presence again?”

"Whenever you'd like, my schedule and the good Lord willing, Alex, I'll be here," I smile.

“You’ll have to come for game night,” she says. 

“It’s bloodthirsty,” Rosalie says. 

"Oh, I wanna see that…" I grin. "Game night at my place is an odd affair."

“It’s so bad,” Tommy confirms. “So bad. But if I hadn’t prepared with the Rasmussen game nights, I wouldn’t have been even close for yours.”

There’s a crash as things get heated over at the basketball hoop. Becky jumps up and goes over to get involved. 

“Yo! Rosie! I need you!” She cries, and with a huff and a fix of her headband, Rosalie stands up.

“Excuse me,” she mutters, joining the fray, leaving just us with the elder Rasmussens. 

“So, Kelley,” Alex starts. “You left Canada three years ago? What about your family?”

Tommy just draws a sharp but audible breath. 

"My family is uh… I'm the last of the Marcks bunch," I say softly. "Car crash."

“Oh, God,” Alex murmurs. “I’m so sorry I asked. I’m so sorry, Kelley. God, you must think horrible of me. That’s… that’s how you ended up here, isn’t it? A… a fresh start.”

"No, it's fine, it's okay. I'm… yeah. Fresh start." I smile at her, and she's so sweet. "My family is all adopted here now. Kate, Mouse, Crockett, all of you, Tommy," I smile at him. "My firehouse. Gaffney, the hockey team. All family."

There’s a scream as Becky is just obliterated, taken to the ground by none other than Rosalie. 

“Tom! Thomas, my brother! Rescue me from our siblings!”

Tommy stands up, kisses me on the head, and runs towards the fray. 

Alex just laughs. 

“Tommy’s always been… well, for lack of better terms, special,” Alex sighs. 

“You make him sound like he’s got a disorder,” Matt harrumphs.

“He’s got a couple, alright,” Alex says. “ADHD. Dyslexia, for one. Doesn’t stop him from reading pretty much anything.” She peers at the dogpile of her children. 

"I love him," I say, gazing at where he and his siblings are rough-housing. "He's saved me, more times than he knows. He… even when I didn't know him yet. And he… he never stops. He always amazes me. Reminds me how loved I am, even when I don't feel like I should be."

“That’s Tom,” Matt says. “When he finds something he loves, he’ll never let it go.”

“Hockey,” Alex says. 

“The damn obscure history of Chicago,” Matt counters. 

“Any animal he can find off the street,” Alex adds. 

“So many damn strays,” Matt says, shaking his head. “But, if there’s one thing the kid has, it’s passion. For people, for life, for all the shit he’s into.”

Tommy is lost to the pile of Rasmussens, and I can hear him laugh-yelling. 

“Hearing him talk about all of you… your family, and Kate, and Mouse, although I’m unsure if he has a real, human name. It’s nice. He’s so much happier now. He’s always had a rough go, especially in high school,” Alex continues. “He became a loner. Never went to any dances or events other than his games.” She takes her hand in mine. “I wish he could’ve found you sooner.”

"Greg…" I say absently. "I wish I could've found him sooner. His job terrifies me. But there's no way in hell I'd ever tell him otherwise. He's alive. I love that about him. Plus," I admit, "it means I get a bit of heart attack payback. Some of my calls have freaked him out a bit."

“We know about the leopard call,” Matt says. “And, apparently, you  _ Die Hard _ jumped off a roof? Yeah, it freaks him out. But like you said, the heart attack thing? Yeah, it goes both ways.”

“Black mamba, in Ukrainian Village,” Alex says. 

“Cougar in Roscoe Village.”

“Puppy mill in Tri-Taylor.”

“Coyote in Pilsen.

“Alligator in Humbolt Park.”

“That wolf pack he was tracking in Little Village.”

Alex chuckles. “He’s a little crazy, but it is what it is.”

"I love him," I say definitively. "I still have his hat."

“I think you’ve got more than just his hat, my dear,” Alex says, still holding my hand. 

I squeeze her hand, beaming at her. 

And then I giggle. It's borderline hysterical, and I point a finger at the patriarch of the Rasmussens. 

"You. You were surprised that I extract victims. I could throw you across this backyard." 

I'm still giggling, and I can't stop.

But it's the giggle I only let out around family.

“You don’t need to prove it to me, but I think someone could use your help,” Matt says, gesturing to the dogpile. Tommy is buried between the others, having turned on him in the meantime. 

“Help!” He yells, “Kelley, help!”

"On the way!" I holler, sprinting for the pile. "CFD, call out! Razmuffin, call out!"

“I am buried—” he lets out an ‘oof’ and I see his hand. “—beneath a pile of absolute children!”

"I see you! Hang on!" 

And then I launch myself onto the pile. There’s squealing from Rosalie as I pick her up and set her on her feet. 

“You’ll never take him alive!” Becky cries. 

"Yeah I will, I need him alive! He's supposed to take me out to dinner in a couple of days, I need him back!" I squeal, and then I'm tossing Finn aside, and then I pick up Becky, tossing her over my shoulder.

“Good Lord,” Becky mutters, “Mark me down as scared and horny.”

"There are children around," I remind her, setting her on her feet a distance away, then hauling Tommy up into a hug.

“Hey, baby!” he says joyfully. Finn makes another gagging noise. 

I lay my head on Tommy's chest, smiling. 

"It's nights like these I really realize how lucky I am. And how much I want this."

“I’m not having five kids,” he breathes. “Not five. Too many. Too—”

He gets dragged down by Finn again, and there’s a giggle before I’m tackled to the ground by Becky.

"Becks!" I'm giggling. "Maybe just one or two!" I scream. 

“No more than four!” He cries, slipping back down into the fray.

I just start yell-singing 'Tea for Two' at the top of my lungs. 

"We could raise a family, a girl for you, a boy for me!" I holler, trying to get out of the mess.

Yeah. Yeah, I think, in the middle of the Rasmussen dogpile, that actually may be in our future.


	57. Now, when I walk the streets, kings and queens step aside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett tells the group about his trials and tribulations with a one Dr. Ethan Choi, much to Raelynn's chagrin. Kelley and Cruz have a moment after she attempts to pull a protestor from Otis's monument on the day of Cruz's wedding.

_The head nurse spoke up, said 'leave this one alone'_

**April 29, 2020** **  
** **1934 Hours** **  
** **2419 W. Gladys Ave., Chicago** **  
** **Mouse**

“Dude. Dude, you gotta teach me your ways.”

Raz looks like the damn cat who got the, well, Mouse. 

“I had a lot of time on my hands, I just started learning, okay?” He seems almost…. embarrassed about it. Damn. At any rate, he checks the fryer that he just brought. The boy has a fryer. I don’t understand. Who is this kid? 

Kate just hands Kelley the bowl of potatoes to mash, while Rae looks over the stove top, stirring what she needs to stir. 

“Can I do…. anything?” I ask to seemingly no one. 

Kelley glances up. "Yeah, call my brother, because he should be here by now."

My phone is already out and I’m calling Crockett. I don’t like how long it takes to ring. 

He finally picks up. "_ Yes? Can I be of service?" _There's a honk on the other end of the line.

“Sounds like you’re on your way,” I say. 

Rae speaks up loud enough for him to hear. “Don’t tell me you had to just go on rounds _ one _ more time!”

“Your girl’s yelling at you,” I say conversationally. 

"_ Didn't do rounds, today," _ he chuckles. _ "Be there in a few. Traffic is absolutely an unholy terror." _

“It’s Chicago!” Kate calls, making her accent that much deeper. “What do you expect?”

“I’m makin’ chicken?” Raz offers, and it nearly makes me snort. 

_ "I expect a break once in a while," _ he says, laughing a bit. _ "Chicken sounds fantastic, Tom." _

I look to Kelley as she brutally mashes the potatoes. “Kelley is currently murdering potatoes.”

_ "Sounds great. Pullin' in the driveway." _

“Door’s open!” I just hang up the phone and reach for a roll, but Kate smacks me. 

“Hands off.”

He finally gets in the door, clapping me on the shoulder and moving to kiss Rae. "Hey, y'all."

Kate starts announcing. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, fried apples, rolls, pie for dessert—_ what the hell happened to your face.” _

We all look up to Crockett. He’s got a cut above his eye and a couple of stark white butterfly bandages. 

He blinks. "What the hell happened to _ your _face?" he asks, confused. 

“What the hell?” Kate hisses, dropping her towel. “‘Kett, did someone clock you? What the hell happened?”

His expression changes from wary to almost shut-down. "Ran into a wall, Katie Kat, walls tend to jump straight out at me. Floors, too."

She squints at him. “I think you’re a li-ar,” she says in a sing-song voice. 

“Babe, that looks like a punch,” Rae says, kissing him on the cheek. 

"Fine, it was a wall with a fist," he mutters, turning his head to catch her lips.

“Who the _ fuck!” _Kate says. 

"I _ just _told you!" He mutters. "A wall with a fist."

“Who was it,” Kate hisses. 

"No-one important, darlin'," he drawls, smiling at her.

She squints at him for a very long time. “It was Choi.”

He stares her down in return.

“No! Dude! Where are my keys.”

"No!" He barks back. "You will _ not. _ Sit the fuck down, Gerwitz." He's glaring at her, his hand resting on the counter. "You will not."

“I’m gonna eat his soul,” she says, growling. Jesus. She’s got blood on the mind. 

"_ Stand. Down." _He hisses, arms crossed over his chest.

Instead, she grabs plates. “At least tell me why,” she says under her breath.

“Please, for the love of God, explain why this doctor hit you,” Rae says. It’s almost harsh. 

He just shrugs, moving to the sink to wash his hands. 

“Order up,” Raz says, and for a second we forget about why Crockett got punched. 

“Who are you,” I hiss at Raz, but he gives me a wide smile, displaying his pile of fried chicken. 

Crockett just smiles at the kid. "Well done, kid." He raises his hands. "How can I help? I know I'm late to the party, but anythin' I can do?"

Kate whirls on him, grasping a knife. “Tell me why that man brutally attacked you.”

He just nods, reaching out with that half-smirk as he pushes the knife aside with one finger, prying it from her hand. "Nope."

Rae winks at me, and then she kisses Crockett on the cheek. 

I don’t hear what she whispers in his ear, but he blushes. And then he looks at the floor, suddenly nervous. 

"I provoked him," he finally says with a shrug. "Hey, I don't blame him, I stormed in and shoved him, the punch was fair game," he chuckles, touching the cut gingerly.

Kate finishes setting the table, and just glares at him as she sits down. “You’re missing the point,” she says, looking a bit like an evil genius, steepling her fingers. “_ Why _.”

He shrugs again. "We have a couple of patients, I rebuilt the woman, pretty much and he wanted to wake her up. I told him no, with full medical reasons. When time had passed and I could start looking at it as an option, he went ahead and did it himself," he finally says.

I just sit down next to Raz. This is getting out of hand, but I don’t think Kate believes him. I just pass the food around the table, peering wide eyed at Kelley. 

She just shrugs. "Choi, asshole," she mouths. 

Crockett huffs. "That's what happened," he says, almost a bit defensively. 

Kate takes a roll. “Sure it was.”

“I’m on her side,” Rae says. 

"It is!" He's close to pouting.

“Someone give me the potatoes!” Kate roars. “Preferably not the liar.”

He huffs, staring down at his plate. "Thanks."

“I only want to protect you,” she mutters. “Kelley, you got what you need?”

She nods, glancing at all of us and tapping a pattern on her boyfriend's hand.

Crockett just shakes his head. He's refusing to look at her. 

Hmmmm. This got unspeakably tense. Time to get Kate off the damn subject. 

“So, Raz made the chicken, and Kelley worked on the taters, and Rae, those fried apples look amazing,” I say. “Thanks for comin’ out to hang out with your cool, adult friends with a house.”

Kate shovels potatoes in her mouth, turning her gaze on me. 

Raz is literally unhinging his jaw to relieve the chicken of as much of its meat as possible. 

Kelley looks around, pleased as she watches Kate and the potatoes.

“How…. how’s the chicken?” Raz asks tentatively. Finally, as he finishes his piece. 

"It's amazing, honey," she says, kissing his cheek. "You're making this again. I need it."

“So, Choi punched you because he was having a hissy fit about a patient?” Kate interrupts. 

"Yep. Yep, that was… yep," Crockett mutters. "No. No… there was… yeah."

"For the love of Pete, spit it _ out _," Kelley sighs. "Or I will."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Rae lays her hand on Crockett’s. “We only want to know what happened, my dear. Besides, Kate and I have been cooking all day—“

“Hey, me too,” Raz says. 

“Tom as well,” Rae amends, “and we desperately need some level of gossip.”

He sighs, and he lays a hand gently over Rae's, and clutches her hand in his. 

"Choi and I have had it out for a while." He glances around, but not meeting Rae's eyes. "While back, there was a misunderstandin', that's all."

“What kind of misunderstanding?” Kate asks, grasping a chicken leg like she’s some sort of medieval king. 

“For the record, I’m not asking why you got punched,” Raz says, holding two pieces of chicken, one in each hand. Kelley nods emphatically. 

Crockett shrugs. "Appreciated, Tom. I do." He squeezes Raelynn's hand. "Fine. There was a misunderstandin'. Started months ago. Just… Choi and I got off on the wrong foot to begin with, went smooth and half friendly for a bit, then tanked again."

Kelley almost growls. "Dick."

“Can I _ please _ turn on his location?” Kate says.

“You don’t know how to do that,” Rae chides.

“Mouse, can you turn on his location?” Kate asks, without looking at me. She gestures with her butter knife.

"Nobody is turnin' on anybody's location," Crockett mutters. "It just was a big damn stupid mess that I never wanted."

“No one ever really wants a mess,” Raz says, gesturing with his chicken bone. How is he inhaling that much chicken? Is he swallowing it whole?

"Ain't that the truth," Crockett agrees, pointing his fork at Raz before taking a bite.

“You’re a damn suck up,” Kate snaps at Raz. 

“Hey,” he adds, almost a little sad. 

“Can y’all stop antagonizing at the dinner table?” I say.

Kelley shakes her head, her mouth full of chicken, and she leans over to Raz. "This chicken is my second favorite thing to have in my mouth," she whispers with a wink.

“What’s your first favorite?” Raz says excitedly.

She draws back, face solemn. "The Holy words of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ," she says primly.

Kate coughs long enough for me to be slightly worried, and then takes a long drink before coughing a little more.

“She means your dick,” I whisper to Raz.

“Oh! _ Oh! _” Raz mutters, before nodding. “Makes sense.” 

Kelley sighs, turning back to Crockett. "Continue."

He just makes a gagging noise at the two of them before leaning over to kiss Rae. 

I just glare at Kate. She shrugs. “Maybe later.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“That’s besides the point,” Kate says. “Misunderstanding. I must know what _ kind _ of misunderstanding.”

Crockett starts coughing, exaggerated at first, then violently, and he holds up a finger for us to wait as he tries to get his breath back.

Kate stares at him blankly. 

“You. Are. Stalling.”

He switches from his index finger to his middle finger as he gasps, finally drawing a breath. "I'm a moron," he says in a wheeze. 

Kelley's cackling.

“We all know you’re a moron, but I want to know _ why, _Crockett!” Kate whines. “I need to know!”

She’s about to have a hissy fit, most unbecoming of a thirty-something doctoral candidate, but she’s headed towards that, anyway. 

Raz takes another piece of chicken. 

“What the hell is the rush, man?” I say. 

“Stockin’ up on fuel for when this all goes down,” he says, his mouth full.

Crockett finally manages a breath, then snorts a laugh. "Yep. That's me. Fake coughs for melodramatic effect, ends up choking to death. That'll be my obituary." He takes another bite and meets Kate's eyes. "Alright, _ alright. _ Got caught in a love triangle I didn't even remotely want to be in."

Out of everyone’s reactions, Rae’s is the… most unexpected, maybe? She gasps and rests her head on her hand. 

“Crockett James Marcel, you can barely handle _ one _ person, what makes you think you could handle a _ triangle? _”

"I didn't _ want _it," he whines. "I just somehow landed up as the bad guy rebound-slash- mistake between Choi and Nurse Sexton."

“April?!” Kate cries. She coughs herself, then recovers. “What?! What happened?! How did it happen? Why did it happen?!”

Crockett flushes, looking down again, almost fidgeting. "Apparently started pre-Rae. I guess my damn charisma and ridiculous fake confidence came across as flirtin'? I don't know. And then ages later, she… she- she just _ kissed _me. It was weird. She kissed me. For like, three seconds. Didn't care for it. Besides. She's Choi's fiancée." He shrugs, not looking up.

“So he clocked you for _ that? _” Kate cries. “She’s the one who did it! She’s the one who should be held responsible!”

Crockett shrugs again. "He's been pissed since he found out. April told him she kissed me, and he shoved me into a desk."

"That's the night you came home with a headache because your neck was giving you trouble," Kelley accuses. "So _ that's _what happened."

"And I've been on eggshells with Choi since, and then the drama with the patients today, I finally got fed up. I already have to deal with Manning underminin' me, I don't need more of it from Choi, too." He's ranting now, and I'm not sure he really realizes it. "I made the best decision I could medically. He overstepped. He stepped into _ my _case, and jeopardized the recovery of my patient! So I got mad. I went looking for him, and I finally called him out on the way he's been actin'. Hell, I wish I called him out on the bullshit he'd said earlier too, but it is what it is. He tried to ignore me, and I said I wanted to end it. So, I pulled a Kelley. Taunted him, shoved him, and then he decked me." He leans back in his chair and takes a breath, seemingly for the first time.

“Did you kick his ass?” Kate finally says in the silence.

"Nah, I sat there on the floor 'til I could see again and let him go."

“I would request your permission to kick his ass,” Kate says carefully.

"Denied," he replies shortly.

“I’d like to schedule an appeal—”

“Sorry, Dr. Marcel,” Raz says. “That sucks. He’s an asshole, but it’s not your fault. You want some more chicken?”

"Gladly, Tom, thanks." He smiles again at the kid, and then turns a stern eye to Kate. "Case _ closed. _" 

Kelley leans over the table to stage-whisper to Kate. "This ain't over. I'll stand guard."

She just nods slightly. “We’ll take care of it. Maybe not now, but we will. When he least expects it.”

“Stop,” Raz grumbles. “Seriously. Leave the poor guy alone. It was a misunderstanding, and he got whacked, let him eat his chicken in peace.”

Kate’s eyes grow wide. She’s shocked, but she starts to smile, glancing to Kelley.

“What have you done to him?”

"Uh, been his girlfriend? Been railed a couple times by him? I tell you, that really boosts a guy's confidence." Kelley's polishing her nails on her sweater, but she gives Raz a wink.

Kate peers at Raz. “I like it. I like it when you defy me. Someone at this table can.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “Seriously? This was supposed to be a housewarming.”

“It is,” Kate says, smiling. “I am warming my house. With gossip. And chicken” she waves a piece in front of my face.

I roll my eyes and look to Crockett, and mouth ‘sorry’.

He smiles. 'Don't worry,' he mouths back.

Rae turns his head towards her. 

“Will it leave a scar?” She stage-whispers. He nods. 

"I'll have a decently black eye for a while," he grumbles. 

She just _ mmms _ a little, then kisses him lightly. “I like a man who gets a little aggressive.”

“Well, this party is _ not _ allowed to turn into an orgy, I _ will not _ permit it!” Kate says. “Someone pass me the apples!”

Crockett passes her the apples, and he's finally laughing. "This is a mess. I like it," he says, gesturing around at all of us.

“Our lives are a mess!” Kate says. “Look at these boxes! Look at this table! Look at you!” She gestures with a chicken leg towards Crockett. “I can’t unpack because _ someone _ keeps making me write practices for my dissertation!”

“You’ll thank me when you’re older,” Rae says immediately.

Crockett just drags her into a kiss.

I turn to Raz. Kate is threatening to start a food fight. He just looks at me, a smile on his face.

“How do you put up with all this?”

He shrugs. “I’m just happy to be here.”

I throw my arm around Raz. “Me too, kid. Me too.”

* * *

_I'll break a thousand more, baby, before I am through_

**May 2, 2020** **  
** **1026 Hours** **  
** **Firehouse 51** **  
** **Kelley**

These damn protestors won’t fucking leave. At least we got them out of the firehouse, but they’re still congregating outside, and they’re still chained to the _ damn _ rigs. 

I see Joe, staring out the window, looking both pensive and angry as he stares at the protestors. 

"Joe," I say, my hand on his. "You okay?"

“It’s my wedding day, and I can’t even get my jitters out on a call,” he says, almost under his breath. “And then you have these damn protestors. It’s so stupid,” he sighs. “You know I saw one of them climbing on… on the monument earlier?” He gestures, and he’s pissed. “There. Look. Right now. Stella says I shouldn’t go out there, but…. I kinda want to, Kelley. Kinda want to pull him off.”

I look out to where he's pointing, and I squint. I reach over, kissing his cheek and I turn on my heel.

“Kelley? Kel, where are you going?” He calls after me, and then I think the realization hits. “Kelley, don’t.”

I'm gone before he can say more, and I'm striding out, almost marching. "Hey!" I holler, making my voice as deep and authoritative as I can. I'm grabbing his leg and hauling him back, my hand clutching a handful of his collar. I shake him once, and I growl in his face. 

"Listen, kid, you don't know what the hell you're doin', do you? You think this is a playground?" I shake him. "A jungle gym? Huh?" I shake him again, and I push his head almost to the ground, twisting his arm behind his back. He's larger than me, so it's not easy, but I have a whole 126 pounds of pure blonde dumbass rage on my side. It's easy enough. "You think you're bein' smart, maybe tryin' to be cool, but the only thing you are is bein' a moron with no damn _ respect." _

I shake his collar again, and I lean close to his ear, almost growling again. "These are sacred grounds, and you just violated them. This is the reward you get." 

I slam my fist into his jaw, letting go of him so he can stumble to the pavement. 

"Take that, motherfucker," I hiss, and I feint forward again, and I actually _ enjoy _his flinch.

I step back, shaking out my hand. 

“Marcks, stand _ down.” _

The Chief steps out of the firehouse, followed by Cruz, who’s looking apologetic, Casey, Severide, and Herrmann. 

“The hell you doin’, Goose?!” Severide says. 

“Dude, you smacked a phone outta someone’s hand earlier,” Herrmann drawls.

“Not the point,” Sev mutters.

"With all due respect, gentlemen, my lovely and fair and just commanding officers," I say, sparing them a glance, "_ Bite me. _"

I haul ass at the moron again, my fist slamming into the side of his head, and I'm shaking him by the jacket. "My damn brother gave his life to protect _ you _, and this is the thanks you give him. How disappointing." I shove him away from me, and I nod, satisfied, turning back to my COs. I step to attention, eyes straight forward. 

I realize Sev and Cruz were on their way to pull me off of the asshole, but stopped about halfway through.

“Back in the house. _ Now _.” The Chief says, pointing for the doors. 

I chuckle, shaking my hands out again. Damn, that was both fun and terrifying. I enjoyed it way too much. It also feels… almost like I coulda done more. Hell, I hope I broke the moron's jaw. I lope into the firehouse, still cackling.

“My office,” The Chief says, stopping and forcing the parade past him and the common room. 

I almost stop. The other members of the firehouse stand, almost shocked, as Blake just starts… clapping.

“Do _ not _ encourage her!” the Chief yells, and Blake hides behind the kitchen counter. “Marcks, let’s go!”

I wink at Blake as I pass. I feel like I'm on Violent Cloud Nine. 

Boden sighs, sitting down behind his desk. He immediately looks up at me.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

I snap to attention. "With all due respect, Chief, I really wasn't. I realize that ain't a legal defense, but frankly, my dear? I don't give a damn."

“_ Goose _,” Severide mutters somewhere behind me. 

‘What if one of them got it on record, huh? They’ve all had their phones out, wavin’ them around, recording everything. What about that?”

"Honestly?" I say, and I _ know _ I should be taking this seriously. But I don't want to. I'm still ridin' the damn high. The damn high of fuckin' _ rage. _ "He was on the damn _ monument, _Chief. They got their phones out? Then let them fuckin' see what happens when they disrespect the ones who save their own sorry asses."

He just stops, nodding, once, and then twice. He’s silent. 

I push on. "He had no right. None of them had _ any right _ to come barging in here. A house got closed in another neighbourhood? That's a problem I have with the CFD brass. Yeah, I have a problem with that. But I ain't goin' out and terrorizing the people who are tryin' to pick up the damn slack. I ain't goin' out to disrespect the monument of a firefighter who gave his damn _ life for mine. _I ain't gonna do that to somebody else's brother. So damn well I'm gonna give someone hell for doin' it to ours. To mine." 

I snap back to attention, and I realize belatedly I was pacing. I'm just so angry. 

"And for what it's worth, Chief? _ I'm not sorry," _I snap.

He leans forward onto his desk, and he just says, “I’m not either.”

"I don't- you _ what?" _

“I’m not sorry you did it either,” he says, that low growl to his voice. “I know what Otis means to you. And what he means to all of us. When this is over, I’m going to write up a vague note in both you and Severide’s files. And you’re going to spend one shift cleaning the rigs. And then this is over. Is that acceptable to you?”

I blink at him. I was expecting to be sent up the creek without a paddle. But it's Boden. I know better. 

"Yes, sir," I say softly. I break my position and step forward tentatively. 

"Permission to hug, Chief?" I tease lowly.

He tries to look pissed, but it starts to break and I hear Herrmann’s low chuckle as Boden circles the desk.

I just launch myself into his arms. "You're a good man, Wallace Boden."

“Get outta here before the house thinks you’re my favorite,” he whispers in my ear.

“She is the favorite,” Severide mutters.

I giggle a bit, and I book it out the room, but not before I high five Sev. Immediately, Blake and Darren pull me off towards the bunk room.

“Kel! What the hell happened! We saw you just cold cock a dude!” Blake says, looking around for any interlopers. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Is your hand okay?” Darren asks, looking over it. “Do you want Sylvie or Foster to look at it?”

I shake it again, and my wrist feels a little shaky. "Yeah, yeah, might be a decent idea. I get a write up. That's it." 

“Hang on, I’m gonna get Foster,” Blake says, nearly bounding off. Darren just looks down at my hand, checking my fingers, not looking at me.

"Dare?" I whisper, and I wince as my wrist twinges. "You're not lookin' at me, you never do that unless you're thinkin' hard."

“Thank you,” he says quietly. 

I tap his cheek. "For what?"

“For fighting that guy. We were all thinking it. You were the only one ballsy enough to go out there and do it. I’m glad Boden didn’t reprimand you too hard.”

"I don't stand by when I can punch an asshole out," I murmur, shrugging. 

“It’s not just that,” Darren says. “You weren’t worried about the consequences. You weren’t concerned about how it affected you, or whether you would get reprimanded or whatever. You just did it. You did what you knew was right, and you didn’t care. That’s commendable.”

"I'm a firefighter, Dare. I got that on lock." I smile at him, a little bit raw as the adrenaline starts to finally fade.

“Otis would’ve been proud of what you did. You know,” he starts to chuckle a little. “You know he’s probably watching, and he’s cheering you on, because like _ hell _ did he not want that to happen.”

I can't help it. I look up. "I punched an asshole for you, bud. I'll do it again. I'll do it again. Anytime." I wince. "As soon as I can feel my fingers again, maybe."

Blake bounces back with Foster in tow. She’s grinning widely, carrying her bag.

“Kel, that was awesome,” she whispers. “We all saw it. You just smacked the guy.”

I look up as Dare steps back, crossing his arms, giving me a knowing smile. 

I chuckle. "Thanks, Em. Hey, uh, it don't feel right." I hold up my hand, and I'm giggling. 

Wow. Knowing I have the house behind me, that's the icing on the cake. 

"Em, fix me, and then I gotta do somethin' so _ hurry _," I say, grinning. "Please," I finally tack on.

She starts moving my fingers. “Any of them hurt particularly bad?” She asks. 

"Ring finger and middle finger, and my wrist," I say, wincing as she does her thing. 

“Hmm, don’t think your wrist is broken,” she says, “Might be sprained. Did you feel it pop when you, you know, laid that guy out?”

"Yeah, actually," I mutter. "Sorta hurt."

“Yeah, probably a sprain,” she says. “What about your fingers? How did those feel? I know you’re breaking those left and right.”

I giggle. "Yeah well… kinda hurt. My middle finger feels like it keeps locking straight, like… _ that," _I hiss, squirming in discomfort as it locks up.

“Yeah, definitely broken,” she says. “We’re gonna ice everything, and then splint them and wrap your wrist, but you should have it looked at. Dr. Marcel might be able to handle that for you,” she grins. 

"Yeah, he probably could, if he's not smoochin' his girl," I giggle. "I trust you with my fingers, please splint them and wrap my wrist, I don't trust anyone but you and Sylv here to do it."

“Okay, but it’ll feel better if you ice it,” she says, heading for the proper tools in her go bag. Blake is literally about to explode, he’s so excited. 

“Kelley, that was awesome,” he bubbles out. 

I chuckle. "Just wait til the hockey game, bud. That's at least fun fighting."

“Is Kate gonna be playing?” He asks excitedly.

"When _ isn't _she, bud?"

He nearly falls over. Darren finally laughs, rolling his eyes.

“There,” Foster says. “Can you, like, not punch anyone else before this wedding?”

"Tell Blake he can't pull my braid, and if he behaves, I won't."

Foster just rolls her eyes, packing up her stuff as Blake collapses onto his bunk.

I reach over and kiss Blake's forehead. "You're crazy."

“You punched a guy!”

"I'm crazy," I amend. I flick Blake's cheek, kiss Darren's, and I put my way out of the bunk room. I'm a woman on a mission. 

Kitchen. Ice. Good. Now… where is he… 

"Joe?" I call softly, looking around.

He’s back at his window, but he looks a lot less upset than he did earlier.

"Joe," I say, stepping closer.

He looks over to me, a smirk on his face. “Hey, Kelley. Your hand okay?”

I hold it up, grimacing at my wrapped wrist. "Peachy."

He just tilts his head, giving me a look that transforms into a smile. “Come here,” he mutters, opening his arms for a hug.

I step forward, wrapping my arms around him, taking a deep breath.

“You didn’t have to do it, but I’m glad you did. And Boden!” He giggles. “I thought you were done for, and he just… he let it happen! It’s like an early wedding present.”

I keep hugging him, and I chuckle. "I wanted to do it. Couldn't stop myself," I murmur into his shoulder. "Also, I told Boden to bite me. And lived. I am pleased."

“I don’t even think he _ registered _ it. He just… kept going. From now on, you’re gonna be the house troublemaker. We’re gonna blame everything on you, because all you have to do is smile at him, and he gives you a slap, makes you clean the rigs, and you’re golden.”

I giggle a bit. "Gladly. I'm the baby, I can get away with everything." I reach up, kissing his cheek. "You okay?" I ask softly.

He just nods, solemnly. “You’re the second person to ask me that today.” With a sigh, he just shakes his head. “Thought he’d be here. Wish he still was.”

"Hey," I murmur, smiling at him gently. "He is. He is, Joe." I look away for a second. "And thanks to both of you? I can watch your wedding and chirp you later."

“Hey. You owe me a dance later. Preferably something completely obnoxious that we can sing off-key.”

I squint at him. "Is _ Chelsea Dagger _on the playlist?"

He scoffs. “Of course it is! What kind of Chicagoan do you think I am?” He wiggles a little in front of my face.

I chuckle. "Then yes. I absolutely owe you a dance, Joe Cruz."

“And someday, put me down on your dance card at yours,” he says, pulling me back into another hug.

"Bold of you to assume I haven't already reserved a spot for you," I whisper, and I lean into the hug. 

He just holds me there for a while, and I’m not sure who needed it more: him or I.

I think it's both of us. 

"Joe?" I finally whisper. 

“Kelley?”

"Love you, brother."

“Love you too, little sister. Love you, too.”


	58. Nobody's gonna mess me around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley and Kate make cookies for the precinct and Gaffney, and discover some new information about a possible lawsuit against Crockett and what they can do to stop Berkowitz's reign of terror. But will it be enough?

**May 9, 2020  
1312 Hours  
2419 W. Gladys Ave., Chicago**   
**Kate**

I look over the cooling cookies on the counter and I wipe the sweat from my forehead. 

“Kelley, I think we made too many cookies.”

"No such thing," she scoffs, stuffing one in her mouth.

“Listen, this is the best recipe for cookies, but there’s no way that we can keep all of these. Kelley, this is irresponsible. We need to… get rid of these. Kelley, we’ll die if we eat all of these.”

She shrugs. "Not the worst way to go," she says, her mouth full. 

“How many did you eat?” I ask, checking on the next batch. We’ve got to have at least six dozen. “Kelley, did you double the recipe when I wasn’t looking?”

Four taps on the counter. Four cookies. 

She signs "yes" at me. 

“We gotta get rid of these.” I gasp. “You wanna go on a field trip?!”

She's nodding, bouncing even as she chews. 

"Hell yeah!" She says, spraying crumbs.

“Okay. Okay, where the hell are my paper plates.” I start digging in the pantry, and eventually, I find them and some plastic bags. “How many dozen should we keep? I’m thinkin’ Gaffney, the station.”

"Keep two dozen, split the rest. Crockett's making his coffee cake tomorrow, so I don't want to bring any home."

“Two dozen each? You know. Gotta make sure everyone’s good. Or, you know. We could make more.”

She hums. "Yep, that's good. Two dozen. That works."

I pull out the last batch and set them on the counter. “Perfect. Let’s do this. Gaffney’s closest. Is Crockett working today?”

She nods. "Yeah, ED. Then performance reviews tomorrow, so he's pretty keyed up."

I shove one more cookie in my mouth before I finish wrapping them up.

“Gaffney first then.”

* * *

I shove my way through the ED waiting room, hoping Kelley wasn’t far behind.

"Kate! I am _small!" _She huffs, trying to follow. 

She flashes her ID to the nurse at the waiting room desk, and I think he must be new. Haven't seen him before.

She catches up to me finally.

“Maggie! Maggie, Maggie,” I say, looking for the head nurse. “Maggie!”

"Kate! Kate, Kate, Kate!" She laughs, raising an eyebrow at me. "Kelley, hey!" 

Kelley beams at her. 

Maggie looks at me. "What did you do this time?"

“Cookies!” I say, holding them up. 

Suddenly, Will is just there. I don’t know how he got there so fast. It’s like he appeared out of nowhere, and he’s suddenly ripping into the bag. 

“Hey, dude, share!” I say.

"Jeez, listen, Piranhalstead," Kelley deadpans. "Leave some for your colleagues."

I have to process it for a second, and then I start wheezing. Someone takes the plate of cookies from my hand, but I don’t see who it is.

Kelley is beaming, extremely pleased with herself. She looks beside me. "Hey, Choi!"

I give him a bit of a salute, and he winks, taking a cookie and setting it down on the nurse’s station.

“Hey, Mags, you seen Crockett?” I ask, grabbing a pair of cookies before they disappear. 

She squints at the wall. "Thinking… loading… loading… buffering," she mutters. "Went to see Dr. Charles about an hour ago, should be back soon."

I glance to Kelley. “Wait down here, or wait outside his office?”

She bites her lip. "Not sure. Thoughts?"

“Mags,” I say, leaning on the counter. “From ‘N’awlins drawl’ to ‘angry Louisiana man’, how was he going to that meeting?”

"Buffering, Wi-Fi is shit today, hold on."

Kelley snorts.

"Tired, pissy Louisiana child," Maggie says finally.

“Complicated,” I say. “But, if we wait, we could bring Dr. Charles a cookie….” I say, grinning at Kelley.

She nods eagerly. "Yep! Good plan!"

I grab the plate, much to Will’s chagrin, and I give one quickly to Maggie. “BRB.”

I start towards Dr. Charles’ office, hoping Kelley is close behind.

"Slow _down!" _She bellows, trying to keep up again.

I bounce down the hallway, walking backwards as we go. “C’mon! You’re like, eight! And a firefighter! Keep up, Marcks!”

"I am _small! _" She whines at me. 

“I am not!” I say, making my way around Dr. Charles’ office.

"You've made that abundantly clear," she mutters. I just roll my eyes and see that Dr. Charles’ door is shut. Meh. I wanted to rattle their cages. I’m in a cage-rattling mood. 

"Just knock," Kelley says, polishing her watch on her sleeve.

I do ‘shave and a haircut’ on the door and wait.

The door opens a crack, and Sharon Goodwin pokes her head out.

"Kelley? Mrs. Gerwitz?"

I accidentally let out that Midwestern ‘ope’ and step back. “Sorry. Didn’t know you were in there. Uh, cookie?” I offer with a grin.

She snorts. "One minute, then you can come in." 

She disappears for a second, and I hear her talking to someone, and then a medium-built man with some scruff comes out, a file folder in his hand and a pen behind his ear. He smiles pleasantly at the two of us. 

Kelley smiles, kissing him on the cheek. "Hey, haven't seen you in a few weeks, how was your trip? You and Andrew have fun in Cuba?" 

He snorts. "Last time I'm letting you help pick a location, Marcks."

Kelley snorts. "Pete, meet Kate Gerwitz, may basically sister. Kate, meet Peter Kalmick, Gaffney legal department. He's a big softie."

I reach out and shake his hand. “Hey, Pete! Would you like a cookie?”

He tilts his head. "Chocolate chip?" He asks, just a bit excited. 

“Oh, hell yeah, what else?” I say, displaying the plate. 

"Then I'd love one, thank you, Kate." He smiles at me, a bit warmer now.

Kelley's on a different track, though. 

"Any change on the case?" She asks, a bit more serious, and Peter shakes his head. 

"Next of kin is still pushing for charges to be laid."

"The guy died, it's not hard to realize he was too far gone already, the autopsy confirmed that," Kelley snaps. 

Peter just shrugs. "All I know is my law partner is working on the other guy, okay? And you know damn well Sharon would have our heads if she realized we were talking about it." 

She sighs. "Fine. Let me know?"

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, hugging her quickly. "Kate, good to meet you," he says, smiling at me again.

Well, I don’t like the sound of this at all, but I’m glad he’s on our side, I guess. “Nice to meet you too, Peter. Hope it all sorts out.”

He nods once, making finger guns at Kelley, and making his way down the hall. 

Kelley counts quietly to five, then calls, "Behind your ear!" 

I see him turn around, taking the pen from behind his ear with a sheepish smile. "You know me too well, Kelpie!"

She snorts. "That damn nickname," she mutters to me. "You can be remembered for everything, but you show up on Halloween as the Little Mermaid _one time _…"

“How did I _not see _this?!” I exclaim. “Mouse and I went as Captain America and Peggy Carter once!”

She giggles. "He mentioned that."

I raise my eyebrow. “Did he mention… all of it?”

She grimaces. "Maybe."

“Good,” I say with a smirk. “Keep you on your toes.” I peek into the office. “You think it’s safe?”

She sighs. "Well, after all this, I'm not sure. Let's find out."

She shoves her way into the office, bouncing.

"C'mon in, Kate," she says, dropping down on the couch beside Crockett, whose head is in his hands, Ms. Goodwin beside him, and Dr. Charles leaning on his desk. 

“Woah, woah, woah, who’s ass do I have to kick?” I say, clutching my cookie plate.

Crockett looks up, looking tired, but he smiles at me. "Hey, Kate, what'cha doin' here? Kelley too, for that matter?"

“Cookies,” I gesture a little. “Yo, I know legal shit, can’t talk, but y’all alright? Ass-kicking offer stands.”

Ms. Goodwin stands, smiling at me. "I'll gladly have a cookie. Much appreciated. I have about five more meetings today, and I needed this, thank you. Dr. Marcel, two o'clock tomorrow?"

"Yes, ma'am," he smiles at her. 

She nods to him, smiles at me and Kelley, and with a quick, "Coffee at four, Daniel, don't forget again," she's gone. 

Kelley smiles at Dr. Charles from where she's beside Crockett, hand rubbing his back. 

“With all due respect,” I begin. “What the actual fuck.” 

Kelley sighs. 

"Performance review tomorrow," Crockett says. "The next of kin of the… the guy who died? The guy I tried to save when I got taken in January. They're pressing charges-" 

"Even though there's no legal leg to stand on!" Kelley huffs, eyes blazing.

I breathe. “Dr. Charles, would you please take the cookie plate?” I say calmly.

He steps back, taking the cookie plate with both hands. "Of course, Kate, kick ass, I've got your cookies," he says evenly.

I kick the door shut with the heel of my boot. 

“What. The actual. Fuck.” I begin. I practically see red. “You’re telling me… that—” I don’t even remember the story I told Dr. Charles, so I keep my mouth shut, but I feel like I’m going to explode. “Who are they. I’ll put the fear of God in them.”

I start to reach for my thigh, and then I remember for a second that my holster isn’t there anymore, and I realize how insane I seem for a second.

Dr. Charles' eyes follow my hand, but he says nothing. 

Crockett shrugs. "Not bothered," he says shortly, reaching for a cookie. 

“Not? Not bothered?” I’m practically livid. “They… they fucking _abducted _you! You got shot! What the fuck, Crockett! Get mad! This is insane! No!” My hands are in my hair. I’m ready to pull it out. 

He just shrugs again. "Legally, the charges won't stick. They can't. It's more of a nuisance." 

Dr. Charles snorts. 

Crockett grins up at him. "Like I said, not bothered," he says, turning to me.

Kelley just rolls her eyes, mouthing, "lies" at me.

I feel the tears in my eyes before I can stop them. No, fuck that. I’m too pissed. “Why the hell aren’t you guys mad? I don’t fucking get it.”

I slam down onto the chair and pout a little.

Crockett sighs. "Kate, it's okay."

“No, it’s not,” I say into my fist as the tears run out of my eyes. I want him to be madder. 

"Hey, hey, Katie Kat, c'mere," he says, holding his arms open.

I glance at Dr. Charles, and then at Kelley, before I grumble and go to Crockett’s embrace.

“Still pissed,” I mutter.

I feel him chuckle. "I know," he says, rubbing my back. "I needed a Kate hug today," he muses.

“I brought cookies,” I say tearfully into him. 

"They're very good," he assures me. Kelley's perched on the desk, talking to Dr. Charles. 

Crockett smiles at me. "Stop those tears, okay? I'm okay."

“I know, I know,” I mutter, wiping the tears from my face while still trying to hug him. “Sucks. Sucks balls, Crockett. Just wanna make sure that shit doesn’t happen to you again.”

He laughs a bit. "You know my luck, Kate."

"My luck's worse!" Kelley says brightly.

“My luck’s pretty shitty, too,” I add, finally pulling from Crockett. “Sorry we kinda stormed in here.”

Dr. Charles just shakes his head with a smile. "I don't mind," he reminds me quietly. "Don't mind at all. Marcel, you decent?" 

Crockett nods, standing up. "I'll stop by tomorrow," he says, and then he's herding Kelley and I into the hall. 

"My girls," he says, an arm around both of us.

“Oops, wait! Did you get a cookie? Dr. Charles, did you want some cookies?!”

"Snuck three while I was holding the plate," he admits.

“Keep it,” I whisper. “No one needs to know.”

I slip back closer to Crockett, and I feel my anger fade. 

"All's well, honey," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "Okay? Don't make yourself crazy over this."

I accept the kiss, but I’m still grumbling. “I’m not.”

"Sure," he teases. Kelley's grumbling. "Preeeecinct," she almost growls. "Let's gooooo."

I kiss Crockett on the cheek. “Gotta make another cookie run. Love you.”

"Love you both," he calls as Kelley yanks me down the hall.

* * *

We make it to the precinct, and I slip inside with a carefree spin. I wield the plate in my hand and it definitely catches Sergeant Platt’s notice.

“Kate! Kate, c’mere.”

I lean on the desk, giving her a warm smile. “Trudy. Love of my life. Cookie?” I offer.

“Don’t say that too loud,” she says, pushing my hands back. “Yes. I want them, of course, I do.”

Kelley's snorting. "This looks like a familiar dance."

“She’s fattening me up for her dark machinations,” Trudy says, as I slip her a pair of cookies. “Could you buzz us up?”

“Of course, of course,” she says with a wink. “You two? You’re my favorite.”

“I won’t tell,” I say, a finger to my lips.

Kelley giggles. "Come on," she mutters, hauling the cage open. I head up the stairway, tracing my hand over the wood. I linger for a moment on the landing. The wall of badges, they watch over me. I remember fighting with Mouse in this stairway. I remember deciding to sacrifice myself in this stairway. It still feels like a liminal space. 

I finish stepping up to the top, and the desk isn’t there anymore. They must have moved it. Kind of makes me sad. 

Kelley looks around, sighing. "Hello?" She calls, and Rojas and Atwater turn first. "Hey!" Kevin smiles at us.

And then, before anyone says anything, I see Jay nearly vault his desk. 

“Oh, no. Nope. Not the attack dog. Back! Back, I say!”

“Those cookies are mine,” he says, trying to push past Kelley.

"He does what he wants," Kelley mutters, blocking each advance he makes, pushing him back. "And right now, he wants those cookies."

I throw one at him, and it seems to satiate him. 

“What’s goin’ on in here?”

I lean past Jay. “Hank!” I cry. 

He looks at me, at Kelley, and back to me, and then he's beaming at us.

"The hell you two doin' here?"

He wraps an arm around my shoulder, poking Kelley, and he's actually smiling. In front of the team. 

Kelley slips behind him, dropping a hand first on Hank's shoulder, and he gives her a single nod as she leaves. Probably to bother Atwater. 

He points into the break room. 

"Did you bring my unit… chocolate chip cookies?"

“Oh, c’mon, Hank, this is not a surprise to you,” I say, sidling inside and leaning against the counter. “You always make it seem like something special.”

"Because it is," he says simply, biting into a cookie.

I cross my arms tight over my chest. “I know you heard about the guy that was taking shots at Kelley and I on the rink. Herrmann called you about David Berkowitz, right?”

He straightens. "Yeah. Yeah, he did. Currently on working on making the charges stick this time. So far, no luck."

I shut the door to the break room. “What would get the charges to stick?” I ask quietly.

He stares at me, shoving his hands in his pockets. "No. I'm not gonna tell you, because you're gonna do vigilante shit. Nope," he says stubbornly, grabbing another cookie. I think he stress eats like, four.

“I’m gonna give you our game schedule,” I say. “Do with it what you will, but I’m gonna do what I gotta do. If he takes shots at us like that on the ice, or God, on a _call _, who knows what he does to the people in his life.”

He shakes his head. "This asshole is a bad guy, Kate. He's beat you and Kelley. He's one of the worst I've seen in a while. This is a horrible idea. He could've killed Kelley. Do you really want to step back into the ring knowing you're risking that?"

“Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. "This asshole has the same damn name as a serial killer."

“I know, right?!” I exclaim. “That asshole needs to be taught a lesson. He needs to be fucked up, Hank. I can’t believe I’m gonna fuck him up.”

He surveys me for a moment. It takes him all of two seconds to nod to me. 

"Okay. I'll be at every damn game, if that's what it takes."

I just grin. This one? This is gonna be fun.


	59. I'm falling to pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crockett deals with the lawsuit concerning his abduction off the street, he runs right into an argument with Kelley leading to an emotional explosion. But when Crockett runs to Kate and Kelley runs to Mouse, they both soon realize that the Gerwitzes have differing opinions on the matter. Still, both tell them the same thing: you need to apologize.

_They say bad things happen for a reason_

**May 18 2020  
** **1830 Hours  
210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL  
** **Crockett **

"Crockett, that you?" I hear Kelley call as I open the door and drop my bag. 

"Yeah, it's me!"

"How was work?" She's doing laundry, by the sound of the washer, so I lean on the door frame. 

"It was okay." 

She sighs. "You're quiet. What happened?" She asks, and then I think she realizes I'm in a dress shirt and tie. 

"Woah, where the hell were you?" 

"Hearing," I say, fiddling with the end of my tie. 

"Hearing? For what?" 

I shrug. "The lawsuit."

She turns to look at me. "They're going through with it?" she asks, and I nod. 

I reach for her, but she steps away. "Why the hell didn't Peter and Andrew deal with it?" 

"Because the next of kin's a greedy bastard?" 

I start loosening the tie, and I head to my room to change into jeans and a hoodie. I can hear Kelley's angry ranting from out there, and I don't feel like dealing with this right now. I don't think I have a choice. I take as long as I possibly can to take out my contacts and polish my glasses. I can't do contacts anymore today, my head hurts too much.

I get back into the kitchen, and she's pissed. 

"I just don't understand, you did nothing wrong!" She cries and I shrug. 

"I know that." 

"Then why can't they see the evidence from the autopsy?" 

I don't have an answer, but her increasingly loud angry voice is grating on my nerves. 

"I just don't see why you just can't tell them he was too far gone, and then that's the end of it. They  _ have _ to listen to you. Can't you just… refuse not to play? You got damaged, Crockett, and now they're heaping this on you! You need to counter sue! Peter can set that up, you need to!" 

"Kelley, stop," I say, gritting my teeth a bit as I start a pot of coffee. 

"Why can't  _ they  _ stop? Haven't you gone through enough? They're playing you, and you're letting them walk all over you! They shot you, and you're not the same man anymore. You're not  _ my  _ Crockett anymore."

"Sorry, do you want me to go back to the way I was before? Working on it," I scoff, trying not to let it show.

"You're not you anymore, and I want you back, so work harder!"

Lord, it's like she's blaming me. I'm too tired to tell. I don't know if she even really knows what she said, but God it cuts deep.

"Kelley, enough."

"I'm sick of you being a damned doormat, Crockett, so grow a damned spine and tell Goodwin to get this-" 

I've had enough. 

"Kelley!" I cry, and my hand hits the counter. "Enough, alright? I'm sick of hearing about it. I know what damned well went wrong, okay? Lay off'a me. I got 'damaged',  _ God _ . Just lay the hell off."

"No," she says, and she's angry. "I'm just sick of you trying to brush it off."

"I'm not worried about the damn lawsuit! I don't care, I just gotta get through the hearings, okay?" I mutter. "That's it. I just get through the hearings, present the medical facts, it's all fine."

"No, it's not, and I'm not letting this go," she insists, and I give up. I'm too tired for this shit, and the anger bubbling up my throat is too much. 

I walk past her, grabbing my wallet and keys. "Don't wait up. I'd hate for you to have to chew me out again, 'damaged' as I am," I mutter, and I let the door slam behind me. 

"You absolute bastard," she's hissing behind me. 

As I head down the hall, I know I shouldn't have walked out on her. Not now. Not this time of year. But I'm so  _ sick  _ of feeling like it was already my fault, and the whole 'damaged' and 'doormat' thing got to me a bit more than it usually would. 

I'm not even sure where I'm driving. I'm just driving. 

Oh look, there's Gaffney. I park in a damn Costco parking lot, letting my head fall onto the steering wheel. 

I'm sick of it. 

But I'm still pissed off. She had no right to say that.

But I had no right to walk out. 

I sigh, and before I really know what I'm doing, I'm reaching over to dial the number through my Bluetooth. 

_ Katie Kat Gerwitz _ , the screen reads. 

She barely picks up, and I'm already talking. 

"What do you want for food?" I ask shortly.

“Uh. Everything. All of it. Is that an option?”

"Pick something."

“Uhh… uh… Taco Bell? Yeah. Taco Bell. Hey, you okay?”

"Taco Bell, got it." I'm short, and I shouldn't be, not with Kate, so I try and take a breath. "I'm not."

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. What’s up?”

"Just had it out with Kelley, listen, can we talk about it when I get there?"

“Oh. Oh geez, yeah. Okay. I’m here. Mouse just stepped out, so it’s just me.”

"Good," I mutter. "Sorry. Just more upset than I should be."

“You have every right to be upset, I’m sure. Something upset you and you shouldn’t penalize yourself for that,” she says. 

"What specifically do you want from Taco Bell?" I ask as I pull into the drive-thru line.

“I don’t know, like, twenty seven shredded chicken burritos. Yeah. Start with that,” she mutters. 

"I can do five, that okay?"

She lets out a dramatic sigh. “Fine.”

I chuckle a bit. "Gimme a second so I can order." 

I'm past the window, and I've paid and taken the bag before I turn back to Kate on the other end of the phone. "How you doin'?"

She lets out a theatrical groan. “Your girlfriend is kicking my entire ass.”

"Excuse me,  _ what?" _

“Doctoral program? If you forgot, Raelynn is literally my advisor? I thought she was gonna make it easy on me since, you know, introduced her to the love of her life, but it just made her…  _ stronger. _ ”

"You thought wrong, then," I say, merging neatly. Really? "Oh c'mon, you don't slow down on the ramp  _ onto  _ the freeway!" I cry, tapping my horn.

“Woah, woah, woah, my dude, road rage, much?”

I huff. "I'm usually calmer." 

“What the hell happened, Crockett?” She says, her voice much softer. 

"I'll… I'm almost there. Just circling around," I say, taking another breath. "Tryin' to calm down enough."

“I don’t like seein’ you like this. Or, hearin’, I guess.”

"You sound even more like you're from Canaryville when you get worried, Katie Kat," I say absentmindedly, and I'm almost there. "Pulling in the driveway."

“Joke’s on you, bud, I  _ am  _ Canaryville,” she says, and then I see her standing in the doorway.

I take a second, turning the car off and wiping my glasses again, shoving them back on my face as I get out, holding up the bag of food. 

"I've arrived," I say.

She slides her phone in her pocket and crosses her arms. “No shit.”

I smile crookedly, and I reach to hug her. "Hey, kid."

“Hey, you. Brought the goods?” She says conspiratorially.

"Right here, ma'am," I say, passing her the bag.

She literally drags me into the house and shuts the door, bringing the bag into the kitchen.

“I’ve made room for you,” she mutters, pointing at the cleaned off countertop.

I chuckle, taking a chair instead, sitting backwards on it, resting my chin and hands on the back of the chair.

“Uh oh. That’s the ‘About to drop some shit on me’ look,” she says, stacking some of the books spread out on the kitchen table. There’s quite a number— mostly about Afghanistan and Iraq. But they get stacked and discarded easily with a thump on the floor. 

"Had it out with Kelley," I shrug, staring at the books on the floor. "Little rough and raw."

“Fair. What about?” She says, ignoring the food for now.

"I know she's not doing the best right now," I say, almost muttering. "I just, she said things she probably didn't mean."

“We all say shit we don’t mean sometimes,” she says. “Usually out of anger or fear. And it’s a rough time of year for her. What started the fight?”

"Had a hearing today," I shrug. "Was with Peter Kalmick, you met him, right?"

“Yeah, yeah,” she says smirking. “He likes my chocolate chip cookies.”

" _ Everyone  _ does. But it was a hearing, anyway, and I finally got to hear all four charges, and then defence next week. Whatever." I play with the sleeve of my hoodie, not looking up.

“Wait,  _ the _ hearing? You mean…?” Her voice gets rough.

"Yeah," I say quietly.

She tosses the towel she had been playing with literally in the sink. “How did it go?” She asks sharply. I know she can’t help it.

"Went okay. Four charges." I tick them off on my fingers. "Medical malpractice on two counts, medical negligence, and wrongful death."

I look up at her, and she looks like she’s going to explode. She tries to breathe, in through her nose and out through her mouth.

God, I can't have her upset too.

"Kate, it's fine, okay? The charges will get dropped. I'm not worried."

“No, it’s not!” She cries. “You were  _ abducted! _ How… why… this is fuckin’ ridiculous. Fucking. Ridiculous. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Mal… malpractice? They had a gun to your head! They  _ fucking  _ shot you!”

"Good Lord, Kaitlyn, I'm not worried! Everyone's so upset and worried, and I'm not, okay?" 

“It’s not… I’m not…” she mutters. “It’s… I know you’re going to come out of this just fine. It’s not the fact that… I just cannot  _ believe _ this is a thing. This should never be a thing. You should be, I don’t know, counter suing or some shit. You were abducted. You…” she looks away from me, and I see her shake out her hand. It’s still shaking when she grabs onto the counter. 

"Kate, can you  _ not? _ " I say quietly. "I came here to get away from it, okay, please."

“Well, Crockett, I  _ can’t _ get away from it, okay?”

I look away, turning around on my chair, staring at the wall. "Well, I'm sorry."

“I’m not,” she says, harder than I think she intends. 

"I'm not gonna countersue," I say, and it's forceful. "I'm gonna deal with the damn hearings, plead my defence, get up on that stand and tell them exactly what happened. I will sit there with the fuckin' surveillance tapes. I will sit though the damn autopsy report, okay? I'm not gonna do anything in return. That's not how I roll, and you  _ damn well  _ know that!"

“I don’t get it,” she whispers. “I don’t. You fight like hell. That’s how I roll. You damn well know that.”

"I shoulda been able to save the guy, but he was too far gone already, a'right?" God, here I go again. "I'm tired, okay? I know exactly what the evidence shows. If I just sit back and let it all run out, the charges will get dropped, an' I'll be fine. It's if I fight back, somethin' will look weird, okay? I'm not gonna fight. I'm fuckin'  _ sick  _ of bein' told to fight it, okay?" I'm snapping at her, Lord, I'm sorry. "I'm sick of bein' told I need to fight it, because I have a damn legal plan, okay? Stop it. Just… just stop it."

She stops, and she nods, looking down at her feet. 

“You’re right. I know. You are. Gotta… gotta stop thinkin’ about that damn… damn back alley Chicago justice, I guess.”

"I'm sorry to snap," I say softly. "Just… got it from Kelley, wasn't expecting it here too."

“You should know better,” she chuckles. “You know I’m always gonna… gonna just grab my M9 and try to solve it like I did in the Sandbox.”

"Just don't tell me I'm a damn doormat," I chuckle darkly. 

“You, Crockett James Marcel, have never been a damn doormat.”

I shrug. "Really? Because to hear my sister, I am. Now, I know it's a shit time of year for her. I'm doin' my damn best. She's pissed. She… yeah. Yeah. She wants it back the way it was before, and I can't give her that. I'm not the same man I was before."

“If we were all the same people we were before, we would never grow,” she says, almost under her breath. We’re all at different places. Different stages.”

"Shouldn't'a let it get to me," I say quietly. "Just was tired and depressed enough that it hit harder than it normally would.”

“Yeah, yeah. The world has a way of hittin’ us when we’re down.”

I sigh. "Sorry for bargin' in and bein' all mopey."

“No,” she immediately says, plunging her hand in the Taco Bell bag. “Never. You brought me tacos. I’ve been needing these at like, a spiritual level lately.”

I chuckle, looking up at her finally. "I shouldn't'a walked out on Kelley," I admit.

“I would encourage you to not dwell upon leaving after a fight,” she says, mouth half full. “You did it, it happened, move on.”

I nod, finally getting up to grab food. "Okay. Yeah. Okay. Kate?"

Her mouth is so full, the most she can make is a questioning grunt.

"I'm the lover, you're the fighter."

“I’ll kick anyone’s ass,” she mutters. “I’ll kick your ass. I’ll kick my own ass.”

"I'm well aware. Unfortunately."

“You feel any better?” She attempts. She’s already on her third burrito. 

"Yeah, yeah I am," I say, kissing her cheek. 

“Good,” she says, pulling herself up with a grunt into the counter. “I’m sure Kelley’s fine. Y’all will be fine. It’s all good, man. We’re allowed to fight.”

"Fair. You and I've done it."

“Physically. Emotionally. Everything in between. It’s what family does.”

I kiss her cheek again. "Family."

“Yeah, now hand me my next burrito.”

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

**Kelley**

"Don't wait up. I'd hate for you to have to chew me out again, 'damaged' as I am," he mutters.

The second the words leave his mouth, parroting my own words back, I feel sick. But I'm too angry to care.

The door slams behind him, and I can't help hissing, "You absolute bastard!" As he leaves. 

What the hell have I done? I said so much, and it… oh Lord, it was mean. 

I scramble for my phone. I call Crockett twice, but he doesn't answer. So I call the one I know will pick up and can help with this. "Mouse, it's meeeee!" I screech, even before the call connects. 

“Ow. Hold…. Just a second—Kelley, all I caught was literally a screech. What’s up?”

"I fucked up  _ big." _

I hear scrambling, and then car keys. “Are you hurt?”

"Physically I'm fine," I say, but I feel sick. 

He seems to hold the phone away from his ear for a second. “She ain’t hurt, I’m gonna check on her anyway,” he says.

“Cool, bring home tacos,” I hear Kate say.

“What happened?” He says to me.

"Crockett came home, and I sort of jumped on him about this whole lawsuit business, and I said a lot of shit, Mouse, I fucked up," I say, trying to remember what all I even said.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says quietly. “I’m on my way. You at home?”

"Yeah, I'm here," I say, pulling myself up onto the counter and leaning on the fridge. 

“Give me, like, five minutes and I’ll be there. You need anything? Can I… I don’t know bring you food or something? Frozen yogurt? What’s the rage in sadness food these days?”

"Don't really know. Poutine? Yeah. Just the crappiest McDonald's poutine. Yeah."

“Wish I could help you there, babe, but they don’t have that in the States, eh?”

"Well, fuck that. Fries. Hell of a lot of fries."

“I’m on  _ that _ ,” he says. “Love me some fries. Wish I could help you with the Great Poutine Hunt. Really.” I hear him talking to himself, and I think he’s in the drive thru. “Cheeseburgers? No, I don’t know. Does anyone really know what the fuck poutine is?”

"You Americans have no clue. You all have absolutely committed  _ sacrilege _ . I saw an Insta post the other day and they were passing it off as "poutine" when all it was was fries,  _ grated cheese _ ," I'm hollering, and I don't care because I'm indignant, "tomato sauce, and a  _ fried egg." _

“First, do you want anything besides as many fries as I can order? Second,  _ I still do not understand the idea of poutine.” _

"Just a fuckass ton of fries. Poutine is a heart attack in a bowl! Cheese curds, gravy, and fries! Glorious!"

“I’m down with the chees-ness, but the gravy? Not sure ‘bout that,” he says, ordering a bunch of fries and I think a Big Mac for himself. 

"Sacrilege," I mutter. 

He is very, very cheery to the drive thru girl, and he’s off. 

“Alright. Got your fries. Give me about seven minutes, five if I drive like a Chicagoan,” he says under his breath.

"Drive like a Mouse who will be  _ alive  _ when he gets here," I snap.

“Girl, you drive a Humvee through the Korengal Valley  _ once _ and come back here and try to drive like a normal person. It’s impossible.”

"I can drive a rig! I want to see you try that!"

“Surprise!” He hisses into the phone. “I’ve driven Truck before!”

I'm screeching and I don't care. "You-  _ when?!" _

“Oh, jeez, like, couple years ago? Before I left.”

"And I wasn't here to see it," I pout. 

“There’s pictures,” he says. “I’m lookin’ for a spot, hang on.”

"Okay, fine," I say, and I feel the guilt hit again. 

“You’re quiet. Don’t like it. What’s the feels, girl? I’m comin’ up. These fries are singing to me, you better be ready.”

"I'm ready. I just feel like an asshole. I yelled at him."

“I’ve yelled at people. I’ve yelled at Kate. More than I probably should,” he mutters. “Not the point. You’re not an asshole. You may be temporarily exhibiting assholish like tendencies, but doesn’t make you an asshole.”

There’s a knock on my door. 

“Open your door.”

I hang up, bounding to the door. 

"Hey."

“Fries,” he says, holding up two bags. 

"Praise be," I say, grabbing a bag and trotting off.

“Hold up, some of those are mine,” he says, and the door slams shut. “You gotta share. Kelley, I just want some fries, okay?”

"Yeah, I know." 

“Alright, tell me about what happened,” he says, pulling out a big burger. He looks at it with loving eyes. 

"Get a room," I mutter. "You look at it like it's your one true love." I sigh, eating a fistful of fries. "Crockett had a legal hearing today."

“Kate’s my one true love,” he mutters. “What happened at the hearing?”

"Charges got read apparently. All I know is he's up for… medical negligence, wrongful death, and two counts of malpractice." I huff. "He needs to countersue."

“While I’m all for the fightin’ approach I’m not sure it’s worth it, Kelley. What evidence have they got?”

"I'm not all sure, Peter was handling it. I think there's video surveillance, and… and the autopsy report, and I'm not sure what else."

“He got abducted. That eliminates all other evidence in my book. You force him to do this shit, you lose your ability to fight whether he did it right.”

I nod. "Fair. Just… he's not even bothered, Mouse! He's not even upset."

“Why should he be?” Mouse asks, mouth full. “He did everything he could. People are bein’ dicks. That’s the end of it.”

"Still. But…"

“Better to let this one go, Kelley. I know you don’t want to, you think he deserves better. I think so too. But this one…. There’s no weight. Better to just let it fade into obscurity.”

I sigh, leaning my forehead on my hands. "Mouse, I… I don't want to let it go. He deserves the world, and I can't even help him. I can't help him, and I told him stuff, and I said things I didn't mean."

“Then, if you’re sorry, you gotta say you’re sorry,” he says simply. “No use lettin’ it percolate in that brain of yours. You know what happens when you’re given time to just sit on somethin’. If you’re sorry, say sorry.”

"I know, I know." 

I take another fry. "I told him that I thought they were playin' him, and they shot him and he was lettin' them walk all over him. Told him he wasn't the same Crockett I knew."

“Oh, I’m not saying it’s not bullshit, because it is. If we were all the same people from before… we wouldn’t grow. We’re all at different places and different stages, you know? Kate… Kate says that shit all the time.”

"He asked if I wanted him to go back to the way he was before," I mutter. "He said he was working on it and I told him to try harder."

“Everyone grows at their own pace. We both… we both know that. It’s not gonna be a quick thing. I know you wanna fix him in a snap of your fingers. Kate…. Kate wanted that so badly for me. But it’s a process, not a magic spell.”

I'm pouting. "I'm upset because I know you're right." I toss a fry in the air, trying to catch it with my mouth, but it stabs me in the eye instead. "I told him he was damaged and I was sick of it. God, Mouse, what was I even  _ thinking? _ "

He’s on his feet immediately. “You good?” He mutters, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Lemme see.”

"It's fine, just stinging," I say, and I can't tell if I'm fed up enough I'm finally crying or if it's the sympathetic response to the fry to the eye.

“Blink for me,” he says, still hovering. When he’s content, he steals one of my fries. “He is damaged. And as his family, you have the right to be sick of it. It’s the way you said it, not what you said. You want him to be better and not busted up because you love him. And he will realize that.”

I nod, sighing. "Shouldn't'a let my own anxiety creep into this. I was all freaked out today, and it carried over."

He just pulls me into a hug, still munching. “I know. This week? Fuckin’ sucks. First week of March, third week of May. Is what it is.”

I lean into him, leaning my head on his chest. "Just want him okay. Just want to not have to bury a friend, or… or myself this year."

“We won’t,” he says. “There’s plenty to stick around for. Hey, you never know. By this time next year, you might have a niece or a nephew.”

"I kinda hope it's sooner," I chuckle. "Could use some hope."

“Wanna know a secret?” He whispers. 

"Yeah?" I whisper back.

“Kinda hope it’s sooner too. I’m so freaked out, Kelley, but damn, do I want it.”

I kiss his forehead where he stands. "It's okay to be freaked out. It is. I'm still freaked about being with Tommy. But I love him."

“Oh I know you do. Beneath all that weird, touchy feely shit, I see it.”

I giggle. "What can I say?" I say softly. "I love the man. Always want him around."

“It’s disgusting,” he says, groaning a little. “Kate and I were  _ never  _ like that.”

"Eh…." I say, wiggling my hand. 

“Take it back.”

"Nope." For good measure I hop off the counter, escaping to the living room.

“Kelley…” he sighs. “You know he’ll get better, right?”

I stop, staring at the floor. "I know," I say softly. 

“So will you,” he says, drawing me into a deeper hug this time. 

I lean into him, sighing. "I know." His hug feels good. Feels like every single thing I was freaking out about is going away. "Thank you, for that. For this."

“Always,” he says. He just pulls me closer. “Hey, remember. You’re basically my practice child.”

"Why do you never freak out about what I tell you?"

“Why should I?”

I shrug. "Dunno. Just wonderin'."

“You’d be surprised how much you woulda fit into my unit,” he chuckles. “First time and second time, quite frankly.”

"What do you mean?" I ask curiously. 

“Gallows humor, for one. Willingness to step up and take a bunch of abuse for absolutely zero thanks. That appetite,” he chuckles. 

I giggle, trying to go for another fry. "They have any spots open?"

“No,” he says, almost sharply. “Nope. Not anymore. Not you. You get enough shit here. Don’t need you in the Sandbox.”

I raise my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine, chill. Was just joking."

He looks a little concerned for a second, but then he chuckles. He goes back to grab his burger. “You feel any better?”

"Yeah, I do. You good?"

“Peachy,” he says. “Good. Pretty good, actually.” 

I flop onto the couch, smiling. "I think maybe… once I apologize… I think maybe we'll be okay."

“Yeah. We’re gonna be fine.” 


	60. Another day, another battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first anniversary of the fire that took Otis from Firehouse 51 arrives, and it's almost like deja vu when a factory fire strikes them once again. This time, though, Kelley and Herrmann are ready, even when they nearly go down inside.

_ The sound so deafening, you can't hear yourself think _

**May 22, 2020** **  
** **1602 Hours** **  
** **Firehouse 51** **  
** **Kelley**

I hate this day.

I hate this day so much it's not even fuckin' _ funny. _

Nothing about it is.

Looking around, the entire house feels it too. 

Boden's been in his office with the door shut, Casey in his own room. 

Severide's been around, but he's been near silent. 

Mouch, Stella, and Joe are on the couch.

I balance the three coffees, walking slowly over. 

I place them down on the coffee table in front of them, but I say nothing. 

But my hand brushes Joe's shoulder as I walk back to the kitchen. 

I know Boden told him he could call out for the day if he wanted.

But he's here. Lord, give him strength. 

I perch myself on the counter, watching over the house. It's so ridiculously quiet.

Capp and Tony are silent, both reading their separate newspapers. They've each been reading the same page for half an hour.

Emily and Sylvie are somewhere. Last I saw they were hanging out in the bunk room.

I'm pretty sure Hermann is still out in the rig bay, polishing the bumper of Engine.

Not sure where Ritter is, probably with him.

And then I see Blake, standing in the door. He sees me, but he’s silent. He’s quiet, just waiting for me, until he walks over and pulls me into a hug.

He’s quiet. He’s so quiet.

"I know you weren't here," I say softly. "But thank you for sort of… understandin' the gravity. We're all a bit… on edge."

“You know I’ve lost people,” he says. “I get it. I just wish I could’ve met him.”

"Me too, Blakey. Me too."

I stay, wrapped in his arms for a moment before I finally pull away, wiping my eyes. "Told myself I wouldn't cry," I whisper. 

“Would you feel better if we went to the storage closet? Or the roof?” He says at a whisper.

I shrug. "Honestly, Blake? Today, I don't think I could," I admit. "Wanna come with me to see if Darren and Herrmann are okay?"

“Sure,” he says, kissing my forehead. 

I pull him out into the rig bay, and like I thought, Herrmann is aggressively polishing the bumper.

"Hey, you good?" I ask softly.

He shakes his head, not looking up. Blake touches his hand, and he takes over the polishing from Herrmann. He just lays a hand on his shoulder. 

He sighs, looking at me. "Hey," I whisper, pulling him into a hug for a minute. 

"God, I hate today," I hear him say, his accent so thick. 

"Me too. Where's Darren?"

Herrmann throws a thumb in the other direction around the rig. When I look, I see him sitting on the ground. He’s polishing what looks to be the same part of the rig, but can’t seem to get past that one spot. 

"Dare," I whisper. "Hey."

He doesn’t look up right away. Actually, he drops his head a little. “Hey, Kelley.”

I sit beside him, my hands clasping over his. 

“I thought it would at least be a little easier,” he shrugs. “Turns out I was wrong.”

"Hey, I know," I say, gently pulling his hands away. "I know."

“Hey. How are you doing?” He whispers.

"I'm… close enough to okay. Not great." I absentmindedly rub my shoulder.

“You think it’ll ever get better?” He asks.

"Maybe. Gonna take a long damn time."

“I just wanna get back out there,” Darren says, leaning back against the rig. “I don’t… I don’t want people hurt, I just… the longer we’re here, the more we’re gonna keep thinking about it, you know?”

"It's been a slow day. The one day we don't want one is always the day we get one," I hear Herrmann say from around the rig.

“Lieutenant, you’re being ominous again,” Darren says. 

"Just sayin'," he says quietly. 

“You’re gonna jinx us,” Blake says. 

I hear Herrmann huff. I peek around the rig, and he's sitting on the floor too, almost mirroring Darren. 

“Alright. We gotta… we gotta not be like this,” Blake mutters. “We’re outta control. We gotta… this isn’t… he wouldn’t want us like this, right?”

I just shrug. I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

“Truck 81, Squad 3, Engine 51, Ambulance 61, factory fire, 1929 W. 43rd.”

Herrmann groans, hauling himself off the floor, and I give him a hand, yanking him up. I squeeze Blake's shoulder, and then I'm getting into my turnout. 

“I told you,” He grumbles. “I told you, you were gonna jinx us!” 

Herrmann doesn't say a word. But he's keyed up. We all are. 

I chance a glance over to Truck, and I can see Stella and Mouch. Mouch just takes a heavy breath, and Stella looks stoic for once. It’s so tense. Everyone is tense. 

I realize it. It’s another factory fire.

As I'm getting in the rig, I catch a glimpse of Joe Cruz. He doesn’t look at any of us. He just prepares himself and gets into his rig, and he’s barely breathing.

It’s like we’re already preparing for a funeral.

And we're off.

We're a block out when Herrmann turns to me. "Ready, Marcks?"

I nod.

"Marcks, you're with me. Ritter with Clarence, got it?" 

That's that.

And then we pull up, and it's all gonna go to hell.

I follow Herrmann inside, and we're sweeping. Need to be sure there's no one left up here on this damn catwalk. 

But it's creaking underneath us, and I'm suddenly wary.

"Fire department, call out!" I hear Herrmann yell. 

And he goes for his radio. "Chief, there ain't nobody left up here," he calls.

_ “Complete your sweep and get the hell out, _” he says. 

"Chief, Lieutenant, this catwalk is ready to go," I say. "We need to get out or we'll be calling for the rapid intervention crew!"

Herrmann nods. "Chief, we'll be out in a few minutes."

There’s a bit of feedback on the radio. “_ —fast—need to—out—” _

Herrmann looks to me, alarmed, and he tries again. "Chief, copy!"

All we get is static.

Herrmann turns on his heel. "Let's go, we're breaking up in here, and I don't know why." 

The floor creaks badly and I have just enough time to scream for him.

And then we're plunging down, and then I've stopped. 

My neck hurts, like I've been jolted, and I realize I'm hanging from the busted catwalk, my air cage the only thing stopping me from falling. 

I look down. 

"Herrmann!" I scream. He's out. I've barely got a hold on his air cage. Barely. I slam my radio. "Chief! Chief, copy! Mayday! Mayday! Firefighters trapped, Marcks and Herrmann! Requesting the Rapid Intervention Crew! Boden, come in!"

“_ —interference—Cruz and Mouch—dammit!” _

Oh God, this is bad. 

I'm slipping a bit, and I'm trying to hold onto Herrmann. Both is us are still swinging from the momentum.

"Chief, please," I'm sobbing and I don't care who can hear over the feed. "I'm hanging here, and I'm trying to hold onto Herrmann but he's out cold, and I need help!"

“_ Coming!” _Is the only scratchy thing that I can hear. 

The fire is getting worse. 

If we're not out soon, this place will collapse on top of us. But if I can't stay up, we'll both fall to our literal fiery deaths. 

I can't let Herrmann die. 

Not on my watch. 

I try one last ditch thing. 

I touch my radio again.

"Captain Casey, this is Marcks. Can't get through to the chief." I have to stop sobbing. "Is the rapid intervention crew en route? I need to know for sure. I can't hold onto Herrmann much longer."

“_ Marcks? Concrete—“ _ scratch _ . _ With each bit of feedback, I feel myself slipping. “— _ Gallo and I—on our way—“ _

I can't wait anymore. 

If I stay like this, Herrmann's weight will pull us both down. If I try to pull him up, I'll probably fall. 

I gotta do this. 

"Copy that, Captain," I say, but it's probably useless.

I take a breath, and oh God it's a year to the day. Hell, I don't know what time it is, it could be a year to the hour, for all I know.

"Herrmann," I call. "Herrmann, can you hear me?" 

I can barely hear me, though the mask, and the flames. 

I can feel the heat and steam pressurize, the squealing of the pressure gauge. I don't know if it's in my mind or here. I can't tell.

I can't even say goodbye. I can't say goodbye to Crockett, Kate, Raelynn, Evie. I can't say goodbye to Mouse. Or Blake. 

I can't kiss Tommy one last time.

I need to do my job. 

I have to. 

And right now, my job is to protect my partner. 

I reach down, grabbing Herrmann's SCBA cage with both hands. I pray mine will hold. 

I start pulling him upwards, and if I can hook it onto the ledge beside me, it'll be okay. 

It has to be. 

I can't even let myself think of the possibility that it won't be. 

I think he's bleeding. It's all over the top of his turnout collar, but I can't tell from where. 

My head hurts. 

I keep pulling.

I can almost get him to the ledge but my arms are shaking under his weight. His dead weight. 

Stop it. 

Stop this, Marcks.

I'm crying, hard enough it hurts. 

"Herrmann, come on, I need you to talk to me, buddy."

One more inch.

I feel myself slipping. 

"Herrmann, come on!"

He's on the ledge.

I'm almost off mine.

"Dad," I scream, and my hand leaves his cage to try and grab the ledge I'm sliding off of.

This is it. 

My eyes close, and I just see Tommy's smile. 

I'm plunging downwards again.

And then there’s a hand. Someone… someone grabs for me, and he lets out a cry as he starts to slip too.

“Marcks!” Cruz cries. It’s a desperate cry. He’s near frantic. 

"Cruz!" I'm sobbing. "Get Herrmann. Get him up, please!"

“I can’t reach him!” He cries. “Gallo!”

I’m still slipping, but I feel him. Blake hangs down from the creaking catwalk, reaching for me, reaching for Herrmann.

I'm too shaken to know what to do. 

I reach up, reaching for Blake, reaching for Cruz.

My hand just barely makes it to Cruz. Blake, he grabs the part of Herrmann’s jacket I’m not grasping onto, and he starts hauling him up to the catwalk. 

It’s already threatening to disintegrate beneath us. 

Cruz, though, he bodily heaves me up, clutching to me with both hands. 

I grab onto him, and all my strength is suddenly gone. "Herrmann, he's out cold," I groan, hanging onto Cruz. I can see Casey and Mouch. I see Blake. I see Herrmann, his mask fogging up, and I'm crying hard enough I can't breathe, even with my air.

“We gotta get outta here before everything collapses!” Cruz cries. 

I freeze. I just can’t stop looking at Herrmann. 

“Kelley!” Blake yells. “We gotta go!”

My head's spinning, and I feel sick.

We gotta go. 

I need to move. I don't know if I can. 

I know I can't. 

I can't stop crying. I'm breathing hard enough I can't move. Or I'm just frozen.

I can't. 

His mask is fogging up. That's bad. It's bad.

I can't. I can't move. 

Cruz takes Herrmann. I can’t quite breathe. I feel like every breath I take I’m stealing one from him. 

I’m hauled to my feet. Blake… 

I’m dizzy. I’m tired. He’s… he’s practically carrying me. 

"Herrmann," I sob, and I don't even have the strength to hang on to Blake. He just throws me over his shoulder, and a few steps… there’s got to be a way off this catwalk, but I can’t. I collapse against him. 

And then—

There’s bright sky.

It hurts my eyes, and somebody's screaming. It's so loud. I fall to my knees, once I realize Blake has put me on my feet, but I can’t. I just… I collapse to the ground. 

I have to find Herrmann. I have to get to Herrmann—

Immediately, or it takes forever, I don’t know how time works right now, Blake pulls my helmet and mask off.

I realize I’m the one who’s screaming.

He takes my face in his hands. They’re strangely cold. Is it him, or is it me?

He’s talking to me, but I can’t hear him. Over myself, or over the ringing in my ears.

I can't stop screaming. 

My eyes are blurry, from tears, from the headache. From the fear. 

"Let me go!" I'm screaming. I need to find Herrmann. I have to. I can't lose him. 

I can feel myself screaming but I can't hear it anymore.

I try to read his lips. I can’t hear anything. I can’t hear anything anymore. 

“_ Marcks!” _ The cry comes. I can hear this one. It’s the Chief.

I can't breathe. "Chief, w-what are you doing here?" I'm trying to find Herrmann. I can't see him.

He kneels down in front of me. “Marcks, get it together,” he says, his voice concerned but stern. “We got Herrmann. He’s headed to Gaffney. You saved his life, Kelley. Listen to me. You saved his ass.”

I stare at him. I can't do anything else. I'm too stunned and terrified to do anything else. 

I feel myself crying. My chest hurts. My head hurts. I reach out to Boden. 

I can't do anything else. 

I’m in his embrace before I realize it. It’s so jarring, it’s so… oh, _ God _ I need to see Herrmann. I need to see him. I need to make sure he’s okay—

“Get her to the ambo,” Boden says carefully. “She needs to be checked out. Make sure they take her to Gaffney.”

He lets go of me, and I feel Blake pull me to my feet. 

“C’mon, Kelley, let’s go,” he whispers. At least, it sounds like he’s whispering. He could be yelling, for all I know.

"Blake, Blake," I'm saying, and my voice hurts. I can't get a breath. "Herrmann-"

I'm almost collapsing.

But I feel him pull my arm across his shoulders, and then… and then someone else. Darren, I realize. He gives me a smile and a nod.

“We got you,” Darren whispers.

Firehouse 51… I see all of them when I finally look up. 

They part as Darren and Blake practically carry me to the ambulance. 

I look up again, and my chest hurts. 

I can't. 

I can breathe, but barely. 

I see a blurry blonde and an even blurrier brunette. 

"Em? Sylv?" I almost can't talk. I can't breathe.

Sylvie is already getting me down on the gurney, checking my eyes. 

“Before you ask, Dave and Ambo 85 took Herrmann to Gaffney,” Foster says matter-of-factly. “He’s stable. He’s going to be okay, thanks to you.”

I can't breathe. I need to see him. 

It's not that I don't trust Em, or Dave and his partner Chrissy, but I need to see him. I have to know for sure.

"I don't know what's happening," I say, and my head hurts so bad. Why am I not dead? I thought I fell.

“Hey. Hey, Kelley, can you tell me where you are right now?”

It’s definitely Sylvie’s voice. But everything hurts. God, it throbs. I’m not sure what hurts worse. 

“Look at me, Kelley. Where are you?”

"F-factory," I gasp.

“Heart rate is through the roof,” Sylvie mutters. “Kelley, you need to breathe. Take some slow, deep breaths for me, okay?”

I can't breathe, doesn't she realize that?

"Where is he?" I'm almost screaming. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sylvie says. She’s trying to be calming. It’s not fucking working. “I’m not gonna leave you. I’m right here with you.”

"Where is he?" I ask again. "Sylvie, where is he?" I'm reaching for her and I can't breathe.

“He’s at Gaffney,” she says. “We’re gonna get you there, okay?”

"You got him? He's okay? He's alive?"

“Of course he is,” Sylvie says, looking from me, to Blake and Darren, back to me. “You saved his life, Kelley.”

"Where's… Where's…" I'm almost screaming again, and I need to get back inside. I need to find Cruz, I need his help, we need to find him-

"Where's Otis?" I cry. 

Sylvie draws a quick breath. She’s looking to them again, and I don’t know why. I don’t fucking know why. 

“I’m gonna go get Cruz,” Darren whispers to Blake. It’s so quiet. Why the hell is it so quiet? I almost want the noise back. I almost need it back. 

For the first time, I can't feel the heat and steam pressurize. I can't feel the squealing of the pressure gauge. I almost need it back. 

"Where is he?" I ask again, and my chest hurts so much. I'm trying to get up. "Why is nobody moving? Where is he? I need him here, someone find Otis, please!" 

Cruz is there. He’s grabbing my hands. He’s trying to talk to me, but then I hear the words:

“—been a year, Kelley. He’s gone. Otis has been gone. It didn’t happen today. It was a year ago. You need to breathe.”

It takes me a moment, and I'm staring at him. "He's… he's not here?"

“He’s not,” he says, tears in his eyes. “Not anymore, Kelley.”

And then it hits me. Like a damn truck. Like the pressure wave. And I hear it grow, and it's roaring in my ears. And I can't hear anything else except the roaring of the explosion. 

And I'm screaming again. I can't help it.

“Shit,” Sylvie mutters. “We gotta get her to Gaffney. Now.”

I'm screaming, and I'm fighting to get up. Not Otis. No. No. No, I can't have lost him. He was with Cruz and Stella and Mouch. He came and got us. 

He's gone?

And then it's silence. 

And I don't look at anyone. 

I just stare at the ceiling. 

I can't think. 

Don't think. 

Numb. I can hear Sylvie and Cruz. It’s echoed, like it’s far away.

“Did she suffer any head trauma?” Sylvie asks. “Did you check?”

“Didn’t have time,” he says. “She seemed fine when she came out—”

“Joe, she’s not fine! She’s definitely not fine!”

We’re moving. When did we start moving? Why is Cruz still here?

I'm staring at the ceiling. I can't stop.

* * *

**Crockett **

I'm so damn tired.

I texted Kelley a couple of hours ago, checking on her, but not hovering.

I've been slammed with cases, over and over.

And now I'm in a cut and dry surgery, as far as trauma cases go. 

For what it's worth, I just want to go home. 

Kelley is off at noon tomorrow, and I'll pick her up and make dinner. 

Quiet day at home.

As I start to close, Ms. Goodwin taps the microphone. 

I don't look up. 

She's a wonderful woman, who to this day still puts the fear of God into me.

"Something I can do for you, ma'am?" I ask as I maneuver the sutures carefully.

She's silent, and I chance a look up. Her face is grim, and I look down, eyes back firmly on the stitching. 

If I'm supposed to help with whatever is the problem, then I need to focus.

I finish up and speak again. "Ms. Goodwin, can I help you?" 

"You've been requested," she says, and something in her tone strikes fear.

"What's the problem, ma'am?"

"Two firefighters from 51 are on the way in."

No.

God no.

"Who?" 

I don't want to know.

Goodwin hesitates.

"Who?" I say again, the desperate need to know hammering in my chest.

"Herrmann and Marcks."

I strip my gloves and pull off the mask. I need to get to her. Not again.

Not again.

"Are they-" 

In transport, she tells me. 

Alive. 

Only just.

I follow her out of the OR, not looking at anyone.

Not again. I can't do this again. 

I push past her, but I know this time I can't get involved. God knows, I want to. 

I see the first stretcher come in. 

Herrmann. 

He's in bad shape, but from where I'm standing, there's hope.

I need to focus on-- 

There she is.

Kelley is wheeled in, and I'm beside her instantly.

I look to Will, and he's thinking the same thing. 

He has help. I turn to Sylvie and Foster and Cruz.

"What happened?" I ask, and my voice is raw.

“Factory fire,” Cruz barely says. “Herrmann and Kelley got stuck on a catwalk that collapsed. Comms went out and we couldn’t… we couldn’t find them.”

They keep wheeling her past, and Cruz walks with me as he seems to get more and more panicked. 

“Dr. Marcel, it happened again, and I almost couldn’t get to her.”

"Hey," I say, and I can't even recognize my own voice. "You got to her. You got to her, and she's here right now."

Sylvie returns, and she looks distressed. “Have you heard about Herrmann yet?”

I shake my head, as my pager goes off. 

I glance at it. _ OR 3. _

"This is him, I know it," I say. "Tell Maggie to call her emergency contacts. Tell them it's Kelley. Tell them I'm callin' in DEFCON 1." I'm already jogging backwards down the hallway, still talking to them. "Kate, Mouse, Tom Rasmussen. Now."

I leave them there. 

I have to wait for my sister to be okay while I stitch up the man who's basically her father.

None of this is okay. 

It's even worse the second time around.

Please, Lord, let her come out of this one too. 

Don't let her get lost again. I don't think she'd survive.


	61. Call all your friends and tell them you're never coming back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the anniversary of the mattress fire that killed Otis, Herrmann and Kelley find themselves in danger once again.

_Pretend that you want it, don't react (The damage is done)_

**May 22, 2020** **  
** **1825 Hours** **  
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center** **  
** **Mouse**

Not again. Not again, I swear to God. Not again. 

Kate paces in the waiting room. Everyone is here. Like a year ago. Like the last year never happened. Her face is blotchy. She started crying immediately. 

I can only stand here. Waiting for Crockett. 

He comes out, and he takes a second to breathe. 

He looks around the waiting room, where 51 is gathered. 

"Herrmann's stable," he says thickly, and he's moving to lean on the wall like he's depending on it. 

He catches my eye, and his eyes well up. 

He slowly picks his way over to us, and he stands in front of Kate. "Hey- hey, Katie Kat."

She pulls him into a tight hug, and then the tears come back. She starts sobbing on his shoulder. 

He's hugging her tightly, and he's shaking. 

"I've got you, Kate, I've got you," he murmurs.

And then… she chuckles. She laughs a little. When she pulls away from his shoulder, still holding his arms, and laughing. 

“Crockett, it’s been a year. It’s… we… since… since we met. This is where…”

And suddenly she’s sobbing again. 

He pulls her closer, and then reaches out for me. I’ve been waiting. I just join the hug. 

“How’s Kelley,” I breathe. 

"I don't know yet," he whispers back. "Waiting."

“What even happened?” Kate asks. 

"From… from what Cruz told me, the catwalk she and Herrmann were on collapsed. They found her hanging onto him, trying to keep him from falling, and she almost fell."

Kate just closes her eyes and sighs. “We can’t do this. Not again. We can let her go through this again. Did you… did you hear her injuries?”

"Concussion, not sure how bad. She was bleeding from her ears. Potential ruptured eardrum," Crockett says quietly. 

“That… that’s okay. She’ll be okay. She’s gotten through all this before. It’s… it’s the psychological shit I’m more worried about,” Kate says. 

I feel the horror slip through my bloodstream. 

Crockett raises his head, eyes red and looks at me, searching my face. 

"You okay?" He mouths silently. 

I can’t say no, but I can’t lie to him either. Kate’s right. The physical wounds will heal. It’s the ramifications of another factory fire, almost losing someone else. 

“Worried about Kelley,” is all I can say. 

"I… I paged Dr. Charles," he says quietly. "He's on the way in. Maggie called you two and Tom."

“Dr. Marcel!” A frantic voice calls out. “Crockett!” He cries. I see Raz running into the waiting room. He nearly crashes into Gallo and Ritter. They steady him until he sees us. God, he’s still in his uniform. He looks so young. 

Crockett looks to him, whispers a quick, "I'll be back," to Kate, nodding at me. 

He steps forward, reaching for Raz. Raz grabs for him. I’ve never seen him like this. I hate seeing him like this. 

“Crockett. Crockett, Mags said I had to come. How bad? You have to tell me. Blake and Darren won’t. They wouldn’t tell me. Crockett. Please.”

"Hey, hey, okay. Okay," Crockett says, hanging onto him. "Kelley and Herrmann got caught when a walkway collapsed, Herrmann got hurt pretty bad but he'll be okay. Kelley got a bad knock to the head, and possibly a ruptured eardrum. She'll… they'll be okay," Crockett whispers. He's holding Raz like he'd hold a little brother. 

Raz lets out a heavy breath. He almost leans over to put his hands on his knees. “Okay,” I hear him repeating. “Okay. Okay.” When he straightens, he looks to Crockett with tears in his eyes. “They gotta give me warning, Crockett. I’ve got severe anxiety, you gotta…. you gotta warn me next time. I almost got into like, three accidents on my way here.”

"I know, bud," Crockett whispers. "I'm sorry. I'd have called you myself but I was in surgery." He rubs Raz's back a bit. "I've got you, man."

“How’s Herrmann?” He asks shakily. “What the hell even happened? Does anybody know?” He’s starting to get hysterical again. 

"Herrmann's stable. Kelley will be okay," Crockett says firmly but gently. He looks up to me and Kate, gesturing with his head. 

I’m there without a second thought. I’m at Raz’s side, and Kate comes up behind him, and the next thing I know, Gallo and Ritter are there, too. Raz just looks at each of us with a bit of disbelief. 

"We've got you, bud," Crockett whispers. "It's alright, Tom."

Kate lets out a little croak-gasp and looks towards the doors to the ED. Will steps out and suddenly he commands the room. 

“Kelley is going to be fine,” he says, and a collective sigh goes through the room. “She’s got a grade 1 concussion, and we had to fix her ruptured eardrum. She’s gonna be just fine. She’s gonna be loud for a while, but she’s gonna be fine.”

Crockett draws a heavy breath, looking at Raz. "She's gonna be okay," he says softly.

And then Raz giggles, and he’s laughing, and some of House 51 look at him critically. 

“You said she was gonna be loud,” he chuckles. “So what else is new?”

Crockett chuckles. "Actually… that's true," he says, wiping his eyes. 

I feel his hand gently brush mine. I take it, and I hold it tight. 

She’s gonna be fine. She has to. 

* * *

**Kelley**

Everything hurts. There's a hellfire in my head. Shoulder is sore. 

"Hey, hey," comes a quiet voice, and someone's taken my hands. 

I push my eyes open, and there's Cruz. Apart from a few scratches, seems safe enough. 

I blink. 

"We're alive," I whisper hoarsely.

It must be the wrong thing to say, because Cruz's face falls. 

I try to sit up. "Is everyone okay? Where's Otis?"

Cruz opens his mouth to speak, and then his face falls. 

“Kelley… Kel, what do you remember?”

"The tank, the fire," I don't know, my head hurts. "Catwalk. Where's Herrmann?" I ask, getting worried.

“Herrmann is fine,” he says. “Do you know…. do you know what year it is?”

My head is killing me, and there's something I need to remember. "I'm at Gaffney," I say. "It's 2020."

“Okay. Good. Do you… do you remember what happened last year?”

There's something. It's stabbing into my mind. "Where's Otis?" I ask again, my voice rising. I need Otis here. He's always been amazing at helping me remember. He can always make me laugh when I'm ready to cry. 

Where is he? 

"Joe, where is he?"

“Kelley, you know what happened. You were there.”

There's a knock on the door, and Casey steps in. 

"Case? Joe, Casey, where's Otis?" 

I'm ready to scream. My chest hurts again. I want to scream. There's something missing. It's missing in my mind. 

He glances to Joe. They share a long look, and Casey sits down on the edge of my bed. 

“Kelley, Otis died last year. You were there.”

No. 

No, no, no. 

I take a breath. 

"Stop that," I say shakily. "That's not funny, Case."

He’s serious. He’s not laughing. No one is. 

I open my mouth, and everything is so quiet. And now I _ know. _It hits me. Like a damn truck. Like the pressure wave. And I hear it grow, and it's roaring in my ears. And I can't hear anything else except the roaring of the explosion. 

I can't breathe again, and it slams into me again when I realize this is the second time they've told me today. 

No. No, not Otis. Not Brian. No. 

I'm crying, and it takes me a moment to realize I'm saying it out loud. 

Joe is immediately there. He pulls me into his embrace. I can feel Casey’s hand on my ankle. 

"He saved me," I whisper.

“W-what?” Joe says, pulling away from me to look at me with tear-filled eyes. 

"You all did. I remember now," I say, hiccuping. "You came to get us."

“We… we did,” Casey tries. “Me, and—and Cruz, and Gallo, and Mouch. We were all there. You had Herrmann in a tight grip. Took us a minute to get you off of him.”

Oh my God. 

"Herrmann, is… he's okay?"

“Yes,” Casey says. “Thanks to you. Gash on his collarbone. Bleeding head wound and a concussion. Piece of metal got him in the side, but it wasn’t severe. He should be good for duty in about two weeks.”

"Thank God," I breathe. 

Casey nods. 

And then there's running footsteps outside the door, and I look up. 

I see Tommy.

* * *

**Raz**

I wrench my arm from the doctor trying to get me to stop running in the hallway. 

“Listen, I’ve fought exactly two people, and I will fight you too, God, your arms are huge, Dr…..” I squint at his scrubs. “Dr. Choi, sir, I am sorry, I will stop running in the hospital.”

I hear Crockett snort as I nearly slam into the doorframe. Ow. Ow, ow, ow. 

But I let out a sigh. 

“Kelley. You… you’re okay. Not that I didn’t trust them. Or… or you, for that matter. I trust you, you know that, right? You’re good at your job. I trust that. I trust Dr. Halstead and Dr. Marcel, and… and… I’m ranting. I’m sorry.”

Joe just gives me a smile. It’s almost relieved. 

Kelley looks up at me, and she's teary. 

And then she looks down. Away from me.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” I ask, heading to the edge of the bed and kneeling down to try to get her gaze. “Hey. You’re okay! You’re fine! Right? She’s fine, right?” I say to Joe and Captain Casey.

Kelley says nothing, but there are tears rolling down her face as she closes her eyes.

I touch her cheeks. I wipe the tears away, and I glance away as Casey and Joe leave the room. 

“Baby. Baby, it’s me. You’re fine! You’re fine. Kelley. Kelley, you’re fine. You just got conked a little. We all get conked a little, right?”

"Yeah, guess so," she says, her smile a little forced. "Glad- glad you're here."

I just look at her. I can’t not look at her. I look at her even as the tears rush to my eyes. 

"Hey, I'm… I'm alive, okay?" She says. "Let's just take the small blessings where we get them—“

I pull her into me. I can’t let her go on. Not without her lips on mine. 

She sighs into the kiss, and she smiles. Just a bit.

It’s enough. It’s a start. God, I’m so scared. I don’t want her to crash again. But she can’t know. She shouldn’t know. 

I brush her hair back from her face and I kiss her again. I should ask, I know I should ask, but I shift her over and climb into the bed with her, pulling her into my chest. 

She leans into me, sighing. "Thank you," she says in the tiniest of voices.

“You’re okay,” I say, brushing her hair. She’s okay. She’s going to be okay. 

She has to be okay.

* * *

_Just remember who I am in the morning_

**May 22, 2020 **

**2134 Hours**

**210 S Desplaines St., Apt. 9C, Chicago, IL**

**Crockett **

I'm so tired. I had to leave, it was better for Tommy to stay with her. 

I wish this hadn't happened. I wish we could have skipped today. 

I couldn't stay at the hospital, I've been ridin' the edge of a panic attack since she came in the door. 

I thought about going to Kate and Mouse's but they've got their own shit.

I'm heading down the hallway, and my key is in my hand. I'm so close to home, my eyes are blurry with tears.

And then I look up. Next to the door, Mouse sits on the floor, legs up, arms resting on his knees. Kate stands next to him, arms crossed staring into space. 

I have to pause. 

"What… why are you two here?" 

Kate holds up a bag of food without looking at me. 

“Knew you hadn’t eaten. Figured you needed the company.”

I take a deep breath and nod. "You… didn't have to," I whisper, trying to unlock my door. 

Mouse takes the keys from my hands and finishes, opening the door. 

“We know,” is all he says. 

"How are you two?"

“We could use an update,” Mouse says, his hands splayed on the counter. He looks pale. 

"Herrmann's awake, he's sore but he'll be okay. He'll be off for a bit. He says hi," I say softly. 

“Thank God,” Mouse mutters, and Kate just crosses herself. “What about… what about Kelley?”

My chest hurts thinking about her, and the panic threatens. 

"She's with Tom. She's dizzy and a little nauseous because of it. Did… did Sylvie or Cruz say anything to you?”

“About what?” Mouse asks, pulling himself up onto the counter, sighing. “We really don’t know anything other than she was hurt and she’ll be okay.”

"I don't know if it was panic, or- or the concussion, but she was-" I swallow. "She was screaming for Otis. Twice. She didn't remember right away. Cruz and Casey had to tell her."

“It’s the damn date. That’s why. She got all…” She waves her hand near her head. “It fucked her up. God, really? Not again. She doesn’t need this.”

Mouse, on the other hand, clutches the edge of the counter, looking more and more terrified. 

I don't blame him. 

I can feel it like ice in my veins. 

“We gotta consider the options,” he says, eyeing the food on the counter but looking like he doesn’t care anymore. I don’t have much of an appetite either. “Best case scenarios, the middle case scenarios, the worst case scenarios.”

"Oh, God, Mouse," I say, and I think I'm cold.

"I… not again."

“It might,” Mouse says. “It might happen again, and if it does, we’re gonna be ready. We gotta be ready. I’m not gonna get caught offguard this time.”

"I can't do this-" I say, and my head hurts.

“I know, I know,” Kate says. She’s pacing. “But we’ve gotta be ready, Crockett. We’ve got Tommy this time, he’ll help. He’ll help.”

I feel sick. I feel the tears in my eyes, and I almost slam into the wall. "I… I need-"

Mouse clutches onto me, he holds me in place. I want to fight against him, but he just holds me in a tight hug. 

“C’mon. C’mon, keep it together, brother,” he whispers.

"Not again," I cry, and my legs are giving out. "Let me go, Mouse."

He lets out a single, loud laugh. “Yeah, right, nice try, nope.” He bodily heaves me towards one of the barstools, setting me on it. 

“Alright, alright,” Kate mutters. “None… none of that, Crockett. We got this. Keep your shit together. We got this. Okay, what’s the best case scenario?”

“Raz gets into her brain and convinces her it’s fine, and she’s done her job, and she’s okay,” Mouse says. 

“How about the middle case scenario?” She murmurs.

"She's low for a bit? God, I need a drink," I mutter.

Kate grabs me a bottle of water. She glares at me for a second, pops it open, and then hands it to me. 

“Middle case. She flips out on one of us,” she continues. “Tries to do her typical ‘you shouldn’t be here with me’ lines. You know. How she always tries to push us away. We can’t let that happen, okay?”

I nod. 

I slip off the barstool and open the cupboard. There was a couple bottles of bourbon and whiskey in here, somewhere.

"Worst case?" I whisper, rummaging around, finally finding one and pouring a glass. Kate takes the bottle of water and puts it back in the fridge with a glare. 

“She tries again,” Mouse says simply. “And we pull her back from the ledge.”

I down the glass, feeling the alcohol burn down my throat. And I fill it again. 

"God, why this again?"

“Why anything?” Kate asks angrily. “Why does anything happen? It doesn’t matter. Whether it’s again, or again and again and again, We’re gonna do it. We won’t stop.”

I drain the glass again. "If we pull her back," I whisper, putting the glass in the sink, "Who pulls us back?" I stare at the floor. 

“We do,” Mouse says. “We do. Hell, even she does. When she has a good day, or when she gets better, or hell, when she smiles. That’s how we get pulled back.”

“This might be us panicking for nothing,” Kate mutters. “It might not be bad. Raz… Raz is with her. He might be able to help. Who knows? We… we could be panicking for nothing.”

"God, I hope so."

I think I'm shaking. "Kate, Mouse, I-" I sigh. 

"You both…" I can't get it out, but it's burning a hole in my chest.

Kate finally plunges her hand in the bag, pulling out a bag of fries. 

“What?” She says, pulling herself up on the counter. 

"I need you guys," I whisper. "I'm sorry I need you so much. I'm leanin' on you two. Between the fact I… I'm terrified. I started the anti-depressants but it's taking a long time, and… I still can't get through a night, and… now I'm even more worried about Kelley, and…" I sigh, and the hole knits. 

I reach for the counter. I need to stay upright.

Mouse just slips his arm around my waist. “Eh, we’re good leanin’ posts,” he says. “But we’re here. We’re always here. And there’ll come a day or week or hell, lifetime, where we’re gonna need your backup.” 

I nod, and I lean into Mouse. I just lean into him, and the tears come. And they don't stop. They keep rolling. 

“Goes both ways, brother,” he says. “Just because you met Kate and I on our upswing doesn’t mean we don’t need your help and support.”

"Gladly. I want nothing more than to be there," I whisper. "I love you two so much," I whisper, and then I'm reaching for Kate. She finishes shoving fries in her mouth and comes into my embrace. 

“Love you too, brother,” Mouse whispers. “We got this. We’ve been through it before.”

“Couple times,” Kate says. 

“See? This is old hat.”

"Thank God for you two," I whisper. "I do. Every day. Every damn day." 

I pull back.

"It's been a hell of a year, ain't it?" I say, wiping my eyes.

“There’s been a fuckton of good,” Mouse says. “Don’t go dark on me, dude.”

I chuckle wetly. "Do you see me?" I hold out my arm. "I am a dark man, Gerwitz." 

“Oh, shut up,” he crows. “Hey. We got this.”

I smile a bit, and I pull them close again. I feel like I can breathe a bit easier. 

"You two saved me," I say suddenly. 

“Nahhh,” Mouse mutters. “We’re just bein’ friends. Family.”

"I mean it," I insist. 

“We know,” Kate says, kissing me on the head. “Remember, friends are the family you choose. And we picked you.”

"Thank you for picking me," I say. "I'm glad to choose you too." 

Mouse harrumphs. “You, my friend, didn’t have much of a choice. We both kinda… drop into people’s lives and hearts and just make a home there.”

"Believe me, you always have a home here," I whisper. "Always." 

I melt into both of them a bit. I feel like I can breathe again. 

"We… we should eat," I finally say.

“Kate’s half done,” Mouse says. I turn and I see Kate, her hand deep in the bag again, mouth full of fries.

“I’m not sorry.”

I chuckle. "Neither am I, darlin'."

And then I look at Mouse. "Remember the lecture you gave Kelley after the last concussion?"

“I can’t remember what I did yesterday,” he grumbles. 

“Me,” Kate says, holding up her hand without looking. He just slaps it.

I sigh. "First, didn't need to know that, second, the concussion lecture? You told her to chill?"

“You mean… right, right. Yeah. After the concussions. That one guy.”

“Boogeyman,” Kate harrumphs. That’s about all she can say, with a cheeseburger deep in her mouth.

I nod. "Mouse, she's gonna try to play in a few days. She's gonna try."

“I don’t think we’re gonna be able to stop her,” Mouse says sadly. “But Kate… Kate’s got a master plan.”

She nods, swallowing burger. “Hank’s gonna start coming.”

"To see if he can ding Berks?"

“That’s the plan,” Kate says. “Apparently, he’s got priors. We could get him in jail. That’s where we need you.”

"Me?" I say, swallowing a fry. "Why me?" I ask warily.

“We need you to watch her ass on the ice,” Mouse says. “Make sure she doesn’t get taken.”

“And none of this shit about how she’s a defender,” Kate counters. “We know you were… are… an enforcer. We just need your help. Maybe for the next couple games, depending.”

I nod. "Anything to get the heat off her. She can't hear worth a damn right now."

“Good,” Kate says, pulling herself up on the counter. She cringes a little when she does. “Hopefully we can get Berks this time.”

I squint at her suspiciously. 

"Don't piss him off to do it," I say sternly. 

“I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

“Sure, she can,” Mouse says under his breath.

I shake my head, and I feel the tension again. 

"Stop that."

“What, don’t like it when we get all sexy, hmm? What about when you called us to be babysitters so you and Rae could _ fuuuuuck?” _ Mouse says getting close to my face as he finishes the sentence.

I sigh. "Knock knock?" I ask him.

“This is a trap,” he says, immediately leaning back. 

"Answer the question, Gerwitz."

He sighs. “Who’s there.”

I smile. "Nunya."

“What are you, five? Nunya, who?”

"Nunya fuckin' business, Mouse," I say sweetly.

“You remember, about this time last year,” Mouse starts, and it’s almost his drill sergeant voice. “You attacked Kelley on that couch.” He points. “She called me for help, and I kicked your ass. You wanna repeat of that?”

"Fight me, Gerwitz," I say, but he knows what that voice does to me.

“Oooo, saw that shudder,” he says. 

“Stop it,” Kate mutters. “That voice is for me.”

“No, look at him, he doesn’t know if he’s scared or horny, listen, Marcel. I’ll kick your ass in a New York Minute.”

I move backwards, knocking into the counter. "Stop that," I say.

He giggles and almost breaks the illusion, then straightens again. “You know I’m fully capable of pinnin’ you to the ground, but I ain’t gonna. You’re fragile today.”

I surge forward, wrapping my arms around him. "You're a blessin' and a curse."

“Emphasis on the curse,” he growls.

"Stop that," I mutter into his chest. 

“Love you. Whether I wanna fight you or hug you.”

"Always. Love you too. And Kate."

He just pulls me that much tighter.


	62. Don't you know I'm no good for you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the danger is assessed, it comes for Tommy, and it comes hard, leaving a rift down the middle of their crew.

**May 23, 2020  
0954 Hours  
Firehouse 51  
Raz**

I hope to God that Kelley’s quiet just because she can’t hear real well. She’s just been so damn quiet since we left Gaffney this morning. 

Last night was bad enough. Hell, I’m still in my damn uniform. But I want to get her stuff before I take her home. 

We pull up at the firehouse and I just wait for her to make the first move. Of course, I’m going to help her out of the car, but I want her to decide when to go in.

She sits for a moment, then pops off her seatbelt.

"You don't have to come in," she says, just a little too loud. I’m out of the car before she even finishes the statement, circling my truck and rushing to the passenger side. 

“I’m coming in,” I say, reaching to help her out.

"What?" She says, looking at me. 

I sign what I can to her. _I’m coming too._

She nods, staring up the driveway. 

She stops at the big monument at the side of the driveway, staring at it. I let her. I know she’s quiet for a reason. And that’s fine. It’s fine. She’s going to be fine.

God, I’m so tired. 

I run my hand over her back. 

She reaches forward, kissing her fingers and touching them to the plaque. I lean forward and lay my hand on it, then I look to her, and I sign, “Okay?”

She just shrugs. I point at myself, then the firehouse, and then her, and then to the car. Hopefully she gets the point.

She nods, and she heads up the driveway. Okay. Maybe she didn’t. But this is fine. I follow her.

She stops at the door, then shoves it open, heading inside. She stands in the rig bay, looking around. It's quiet. Everything is quiet. And it’s not just her. 

I know no one died. I know no one was seriously hurt. But the way the fire fell, right on the day that Otis died…. 

It hits so much harder.

I just slip my hand on her back. 

She startles, looking up at me. 

“Sorry,” I say, and then I realize she probably can’t hear my voice very well. I kiss her on the cheek. 

She smiles, just a bit. It seems forced.

And then she's pushing through. 

She walks into the common room, barely looking at anyone. Hell, she almost runs into Captain Casey. 

She just breezes right through.

“Hey, Captain Casey, sorry, Captain Casey,” I say, trying to follow after her. 

“Hey, Tommy, she doin’ okay?” he says, stopping me quickly. 

“Uh…” I watch her keep moving through the firehouse like a ghost. She’s getting too far away from me. “Debatable.”

“Keep us posted, alright?”

I bounce a little in my boots. “Sure, Captain Casey.”

Where did she go-- I have to find her. I don’t want her to be alone right now.

There's swearing, and I follow the muffled yells into the locker room. 

She's cursing at her locker. 

“Baby, baby, baby,” I say, pulling her hands back. “Hey, stop. Stop. How can I help?” I say loudly.

She takes a breath and forces it back out, turning deliberately back to the lock. She's calmer this time, finally yanking it open. 

There's her bag and her jacket, and a bunch of pictures. 

There's one of her at Molly's with a few people. I can pick out her, Herrmann, and Joe Cruz, and Otis. 

There's another one with her an Blake and Darren. 

There's a couple of her and Kate and Mouse, and Crockett. 

There's one of her and I. She's kissing my cheek.

There's one, almost hidden behind the others, and it has her sitting piggyback on Otis' shoulders. 

She touches the picture, sighing heavily. 

Then she yanks her bag out with her jacket and sits down on the bench. 

_Rest, _she signs. I nod, and I just sit down next to her. I’ll sit down with her forever if I have to. 

She kicks the locker gently with her boot. It's a constant clanging. 

_I help? _I sign to her. 

She shrugs, trying to get her jacket into the bag. I take it gently from her hands, and I fold it up, and I place it inside before zipping it back up.

She stands up, moving a few lockers down, leaning her head on the cool metal. She doesn't look up, but her fingers find the tape with the black markered "Zvonecek" on it.

She stays there for a moment, fingers tracing the tape. I just make sure I have her bag, throwing it over my shoulder, and shift enough to get her into my eyeline. I don’t want to scare her. I don’t want to startle her. But I want her to take her time.

We all need to take some time, I think.

She makes a noise finally, and she keeps her head on the locker. Her free hand, the one not tracing the tape, comes up to brush away the tear.

I slip my hand into hers, feeling the wet, warm tear still on her fingertips.

She looks at me, and she looks tired. 

She jerks her head to the door, and starts pulling me along into the hallway. She hauls me to an office. She knocks on the open door. 

"Chief?" 

He immediately stands, giving her a warm smile. “Marcks. How are you doing?”

She squints at him, her mouth moving for a second. "I'm okay," she finally says. "Sore. Head is dizzy. I'll be fine."

“If you need anything, will you let me know?” He says tentatively. He’s an imposing man, but he’s a kind man. He gives me a little nod.

"I will," she says. "Thanks. Gotta go." She turns around, beating it out of the office. I’ve almost got whiplash. I just give the Chief a half-hearted salute before chasing her down.

She's leaning on the wall right outside his office, staring at the floor. 

"Feels so weird, Tommy."

“What… what feels weird?” I ask. I feel dumb. I don’t know how to help her. I always feel like I’m running three steps behind.

"Being here. Not working."

“Oh. You’ll be back in a few days.”

She says nothing. 

But she looks up to the stretch of wall just down the hallway. Painted red, with frames and stars.

Oh. Oh no. This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.

“Do you want to… get some breakfast, or something? Food sounds good, yeah?” I realize I never ate dinner. My stomach growls. 

She moves closer to it, standing directly in front of the pictures. It’s too late now. I’m going to have to let her. Well, I never ‘let’ her do anything. That’s not how I roll. That’s not how I work. 

But now we’re going to have to ride out the waves. 

“Kelley?”

She ignores me. Or doesn't hear me. Not sure which. 

"This house has lost too many people," she says, her voice flat.

‘It has,” I say. “One is too many.”

She laughs.

“Kelley? Why.. why are you laughing?”

She's almost bent over, and then she straightens, wiping her eyes again. She sounds almost hysterical. 

"Three people in the last nine years, Tommy."

“I know. And it sucks. It sucks hard. But you all took an oath. You’ve told me about it. And you live that every day. You all took that oath. You all said you would die to help others. You all made that decision, and sometimes… sometimes you lose people.”

She nods, but she's pursing her lips. 

She turns to me, and her eyes… they're dull. 

“Baby. Babe, you okay?”

"Why do you love me like you do? You know my job. You know the danger I face."

I chuckle. “Of course I know. I don’t… I don’t understand, Kelley. I love you for you, not for your job. Sure, it’s a part of you, but it’s not _you _.”

She shakes her head. "You don't understand," she insists, voice rising.

“I… I don’t,” I say, scratching my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t. I just can’t stop loving you because you could…” I drift. “I mean, I could. Any of us could. It doesn’t mean we should stop living.”

She huffs, glancing back at the wall. "I walked into that building a year to the day. And I thought I would die. Again. You'd have to find out that I was dead. From Boden, or someone else. I'm trying to make you see."

I squint. I.. “I’m sorry. I can’t.. I don’t… Kelley, I’m not going to stop loving you because of something that statistically will not happen. I’m not going to stop loving you because you might… might die in a fire someday. That’s not fair. I’m not going to stop loving you.”

And that’s it. That’s the sentence. No qualifiers. 

"You don't get it!" She finally says, her voice near a shout.

“I don’t,” I say, and I see Blake and Darren peek around the corner. I brush them off. “Kelley, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t get it.”

"I can't put you through this," she says, stepping back. 

“Put me through _what?”_

She takes a sharp breath. "You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?" She stabs a finger at the wall. "This. Losing me. I won't do it. I refuse to let you through losing me. You deserve more than that."

“That’s not…. Kelley, I make that choice. Not you.”

"Then here's my choice," she says, taking another step back. "I'm telling you that this is your out."

“What?” I ask. I’m so confused. “Why do I need an out? I don’t want out.”

She looks lost, and then the dullness takes back over. "Tom, one of these stars on this wall? One day, one of them will be mine." She's half yelling. "I don't want you to feel that."

“I don’t either.”

"Then walk away from me." She turns around, staring again at the wall.

“I don’t want to.”

She says nothing.

“Kelley, you’re trying to push me away because you’re scared. You’re scared of hurting me. We’ve had this talk. You’re doing your _job. _You’re doing your _calling. _Pushing me away…. That hurts more than the small chance that you could die on the job. Pushing me away means you’re out of my life. I’d rather live with the anxiety of that small chance than not have you in it at all.”

She actually stamps her foot.

"For fucks sake, Tommy! Don't you get it? I'd rather die knowing you won't hurt as much about it than die knowing you would. I'm preempting the preemption!" She steps back again, and she's breathing really fast.

“You.. you’ve given me everything I’ve ever needed,” I say. My voice breaks. I hate it. God, I hate it. “Kelley, I don’t understand.”

"All I'll ever end up doing is hurting you!" She shouts.

“You’re hurting me by pushing me away.”

"It'll hurt less when I'm fuckin' dead," she scoffs.

“I think it hurts worse when you choose to do it.” 

She leans on the wall, sliding down it. She holds her head in her hands.

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll go,” I say quietly.

She looks up, and her eyes are full. 

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "Please. Go."

I drop the bag on the floor. I don’t know what else to do. I feel dull. I feel vacant. I feel hollow.

Somehow, I fucked this up. Somehow, the one good thing in my life got so fucked up that I couldn’t… I couldn’t even hold onto her. 

Of course you couldn’t. This was all just a fever dream anyway. It was too good to be true. It was always going to end this way.

I start out of the firehouse, I head back to my truck.

Dags was right.


	63. I've never seen anybody do the things you do before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelley realizes that she’s desperately messed up, and just in time for another faceoff against the West Town Ruskies. Whether she can repair her and Raz’s relationship before Kate decides to start a war with Berkowitz, it’s a mystery. But Hank is in the stands, along with Raelynn and Evie, so it’s time to put on the show to end all shows—and possibly get an arrest. 
> 
> But is all the bodily harm worth it? Kate is about to find out.

_When you're done I'll make you do it all again_

**May 24, 2020** **   
** **1425 Hours** **   
** **Johnny’s Ice House East** **   
** **Kelley**

AK is talking, and I should be listening. 

I can barely hear him. Partly because I can barely hear period. 

But I keep looking to Tommy. 

He's not looking at me. 

Fair. I wouldn't look at me after yesterday either.

God, I feel like an ass. 

But he's not looking at  _ anyone. _ He's just staring at the floor. 

God, what have I done? 

I rub my forehead. 

There's a hand on my arm, and Crockett's there. I shake my head at him with a smile. 

He's nervous enough, he doesn't need this bullshit. He's already pissed off at me for playing against medical advice.

I smile again, shaking my arm loose. 

With a wary look, he moves off towards Kate. 

I just sigh.

“So, uh, wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

Mouse tries to lean coolly against the lockers. He’s ready to rumble, except for his Blackhawks hat, turned backwards on his head. He gives me what I think he thinks is a casual smirk.

It’s not casual.

"What do you mean, 'what's going on'?" I say, sitting down so I can check my laces. I may be playing AMA, but I still don't feel well when I bend over, so sitting it is.

“Crockett says you’re playing AMA. Raz won’t even look at any of us. I may look stupid, but I ain’t. I can see that something happened between you two. So look,” he says, squatting down in front of me. “It was either me or Kate, and Kate would’ve come up here, guns blazing. You know I’m the good cop in this scenario.”

I meet his eyes, and it's a mistake. I can feel the tears gather. "I fucked up," I admit.

“What? Woah, woah, woah, there’s no crying in hockey, what happened?”

"The conversation the four of us had at UIC?" I whisper. "I went back on it. I pushed him away, I preempted the preemption." I sigh. "I told him to leave."

“You did  _ what?” _ He sits down on the bench next to me. “In my defense, I’ve also done this, so I have no room to talk, but Kelley! Look at the boy!”

"I am," I burst out. "I am, and I feel like the worst person in the world, okay, Mouse? I fucked up. I fucked up so much."

“You know, you can fix it?”

"I know, I just… I…" I stop, and I drop my head into my hands. Holding back tears is making the headache worse.

I feel his breath near my ear. “He’s definitely watching you right now, and he’s perked right the fuck up, so we definitely have an audience.”

I look up, and I search for him. I can barely see him through the blurriness, but I see him. 

When he looks at me, that dull, vacant look blossoms. It blossoms into hope. And he looks to Mouse, and then back to me, and he swallows hard. 

And then he’s coming over.

“Love you, byeee!” Mouse says, vacating the premises.

I watch Mouse go, and then I look to Tommy. 

Fuck, the tears have vacated the premises of my eyes. Never mind. 

I look up at Tommy from the bench. 

"H-hey," I manage.

He kneels down in front of me, and he starts to open his mouth. When I start to say something, he holds up his hand.

“No. Just,” He gives me a frustrated look. “I should let you speak. I should. I just… let me. Can I? No. I’m gonna be assertive. I’m supposed to be assertive.” 

He stops to take a steadying breath.

I just watch him. The tears are hot, burning a trail down my face.

“I love you,” he says emphatically, finally finding the words he wants. “I love you, and your job doesn’t change that. I want whatever time we have together. I don’t care. I want it. And I—we—we deserve it. I don’t care if it’s… three weeks, or, or ninety years. Okay? Nothing’s gonna change that.”

I'm crying. 

I want it. I want him to know that. 

"I love you," I murmur. "I shouldn't have told you to leave. I'm sorry."

He almost looks… shocked. 

“That… that worked?”

I start crying harder. God, he looks so unsure. 

"Baby, I'm sorry," I murmur.

“You… you didn’t want it, did you?” He asks quietly.

I shake my head. "I just don't want to hurt you."

He wipes the tears from my face, and he can’t speak for a moment, his lips upturning into a slight smile. All I can see are the hazy hazel-grey of his eyes. 

“You won’t hurt me. You couldn’t. Not on purpose. If something happens… I could never blame you. So it wouldn’t be you hurting me. It would be… the universe… or something… I don’t know, I was trying to be philosophical, and it just came out dumb. Like usual.”

"Hey, no," I say softly. "Not dumb. Sweet."

“It’s not your fault. It’s not. I know how it gets sometimes. I know it’s easier to just be alone. Trust me. Of all people, I would know.”

I reach a hand out, gently touching his cheek. "Forgive me?" I say, barely getting it out before the sob.

He covers his hand with mine and just smiles. 

“Alright, everyone up! Get your asses to the ice!” AK yells. Tommy’s face falls a little.

“Of course. Of course, you’re forgiven,” he says. “I’m not done with you, though. Good-- good stuff. Not bad.” 

He stands up, letting his hand trail on my face.

I wipe my eyes, and I push myself up off the bench. 

Headrush. Fun stuff. But I have another conversation with Tommy to look forward to. Not dread, like I was with this conversation. Look forward to.

I start heading to the ice, and I have to go slow.

If I'm gonna play AMA, I gotta actually play. 

I look around. This could get interesting. 

* * *

**Kate**

“You good?” I call to Raz as I skate past him.

He looks up, and he looks a little bit teary-eyed, but he looks relieved. He gives me a thumbs up as he sets up the warm up music.

“Don’t you fuck this up!” I say, pointing at him.

“Shut up, I’ve got this!” 

“That’s my Razzy boy! Back in the fuckin’ saddle!”

“Hopefully soon!” He calls back. I roll my eyes, give a thumbs up to Mouse, and nearly run into Crockett.

“What is up, my dude?!”

He shoots me a smile, and exhales long and loud. 

"The sky?" He tries.

I point from my jersey to his and back again. “Same team, lest you forget. Save your chirps for the Ruskies.” I glare at the red jerseys as they come on. “I wish we had more teams in the league. But, on the bright side, I’m hoping we can get some sort of closure on this asshole.”

Without looking, I flip off Berkowitz, and I search the small crowd of people. We don’t get many, but I see the ones I need to find: Sylvie is there with… Casey? Okay, cool, cool. Cute. I ship it. Gallo and Ritter come in and sit below those two, and Sylvie can’t stop laughing. I’m glad. She needs that right about now. 

But down by the boards, I see Hank, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He looks at me, just nods once. 

And then I hear the shrill cry of a child.

“Crockett!”

Crockett whips around, searching the stands. His eyes light up, and he starts waving. "My God," he whispers, beaming. "They're here."

“You make it sound like a horror movie, my dude,” I say. “Also, uh, what is she  _ wearing? _ ”

I bite my lip, watching him squint to see Rae and Evie. Both of them have green matching t-shirts, number 32. Evie stands up on her chair and turns around. The back says Marcel.

Crockett almost gets teary for a moment, beaming up at her. "That's my girls," he shouts up to them.

There’s a very adorable chorus of “Hi, love you!” from the stands. I can’t help but grin. God, it makes me so happy to see him like that. 

But I turn around so they can’t read my lips. “So, uh, N’awlins, you gonna get cocky tonight and fight?”

"Might have to tone it down so I don't encourage my daughter to violence," he chuckles. "Otherwise, scrappy as normal."

I sigh for a second, leaning on my stick. “Hey, Crockett?”

"Yes, Kate?" He says, turning to me.

“I would make a wonderful best woman in your wedding, you know,” I say with a wink. “I’ll accept groomslady. Or bridesmaid, to be honest. Listen, I know you think I’m kidding. I’m not. I know that look. This is your endgame, ain’t it, N’awlins?”

"Listen, I… this is not the time to talk about this, but I will need your help picking out a ring, okay?" He says quietly.

I bite my lip, skating backwards and pointing at him. “You remember. You remember who did this. Kaitlyn Elen Cavanagh Gerwitz. This was all me. You’re welcome!” I cry out, pirouetting. Oops. Bad idea. Still can’t get past that gross feeling. Probably just nerves. I desperately want to eat a soul tonight. 

“Raz, the fuck is this?!” I yell. 

He circles me and I hear him sing in a Doppler effect. “‘Cause I gotta have faith, faith, faith!”

“You’re insane!”

He spins around, skating around me, dancing. “Babay! I know you’re askin’ me to stay, say, ‘please, please, please don’t go away’ you say I’m givin’ you the blues!”

I look at Kelley. “This is a paradigm shift.”

She's smiling at him, and she can't stop watching him. 

Good to know whatever was happening between them is over. I’m thankful that Kelley is smiling. She shouldn’t be on the ice, but I know how she feels. 

Gotta be out here. Gotta fight for our right to party.

And I point at Hank as I head to the faceoff.

I don’t care. I’ll take whatever hits I need to get this asshole off the ice.

I try to ice him a little as I break, and he just opens his mouth to speak.

“No. You don’t get to. First off, you’re literally named after the Son of Sam. Secondly, you’re a fucking asshole. Plain and simple. I’m gonna have your ass before this night is over. Enjoy your last game.”

The ref just rolls his eyes and doesn’t even let Berks get in a comment edgewise. I’m pissed. Even looking at him makes me angry. He’s gonna be mine. I’m gonna finally eat his soul. 

That puck is mine before he can even think. Actually, I ram him with my hip before zipping past, sending him off kilter. 

“You bitch!” He yells.

“Don’t I know it!” I cry back. I try for a run on the goal, but I’m backed into the corner. Fuck. 

"N'awlins!"

I pass it to Crockett. Bricks stops his attempt at me, and then heads for Crockett. Fuck. Shit. Fuck—

I weave around Bricks, trying to distract him, and Crockett passes to Laser. 

Shit, gotta go—I start distracting their goaltender. 

Laser makes it in. 

I hear Evie just fucking  _ losing it _ . She’s giggling, she’s clapping, she’s yelling. Rae is laughing so hard, she’s almost leaning up against the boards as her daughter just  _ roars. _

Crockett is just beaming. He winks at me, then cuts a tight circle, waving up at Evie.

She just waves with both hands. I feel it so deep in my heart, it brings tears to my eyes. 

Fuck. Gotta faceoff. Gotta fuck up Berks.

I skate past Kelley. “You got any good chirps? My brain is fresh out.”

I spin up to the faceoff, ready to take the damn puck again.

"What did you say?" She hollers to me.

“I need  _ Chirps!” _ I hiss. “You’re half deaf! Jesus!”

She gives me a thumbs up. "Yeah, you could call him a twerp! Golden classic."

I roll my eyes. She’s out for the count today. I hope she’s okay. 

I take the damn faceoff, “because I’m fucking faceoff specialist, asshole!” I finish in his face. I send it back to Crockett, because Berks already starts towards me. Okay. That’s cool. 

"Through the center, through the fucking center!" I call out to Crockett, and he's off. Damn. Damn, he's better than I ever thought. He even pulls off a spin as he dekes—well, that's officially a dangle—past one of the Ruskies and slams it into the goal. 

Fastest goal I’ve never done. 

Hmmm. Goal, assist. Just need a fight for a Gordie. 

And I know right where I’m headed.

* * *

This is the fucking fourth time I’ve been knocked on the ice tonight. I glare at Hank as I struggle to get up, but an unknown Ruskie comes by and pushes me back down, my face nearly smashing into the ice.

Crockett swings by, boarding the Ruskie before he's off again.

“Thanks, baby!” I yell to him, finally struggling to my feet. 

I crack my neck. God, I’m getting too old for this. 

But somehow, a Ruskie gets the puck from Crockett, and they’re headed back this way. I line myself up to try to help out Mouse, but I’m hip-checked out of the way. 

Mouse has this. He’s got this. He has it, because he stops it and the puck slips behind the goal. I don't even know how Raz gets the puck. He's behind Mouse, but he passes it to me. I'm shooting down the ice as fast as I can, but I feel the wind of one of the Ruskies coming for me. 

"Raz!" 

I pass it to him.

I don't see it go in, but I know it does from the cheering. 

Boy is on fire tonight.

Kelley's squealing, shooting him a thumbs up as she swoops around Bricks, heading around. 

Raz looks like he’s about to charge Kelley, as he pulls his own helmet off. When he gets to her, he wraps his hand around her waist, stick still in his hand, and pulls off her helmet, grabbing her and kissing her hard.

She's dropping her stick, wrapping her arms around him.

Crockett whistles. There’s whooping and cheers from the few people in attendance, and then I hear Berks start laughing. And then he starts skating towards them. He’s almost next to me, so I skate up and cut him off.

I look at him, and then I just fucking head-butt him. He throws off his gloves, but Crockett steps between us. Sure, my head’s a little spinny, but it was worth it. 

Because I hear Evie just cackling.

* * *

I don’t even know why they’re trying at this point. "N'awlins!" I cry out, and Laser is on me. Crockett has the puck, and I go for Berks with a deathwish. I don't even care. Crockett passes to Laser while Berks is distracted, and Laser just slapshots it into the goal. 

"Motherfuckin' criss-cross applesauce!" I cry out, skating up and blowing a kiss to Berks. 

"Take that you motherfuckin' asshole of a piece of garbage!" Kelley hollers at him. She's pissed at him, I can see it from here. 

She's even louder than normal. "You absolute shitheel, you needta stop calling yourself hot, the only thing you can turn on is a microwave!"

“What the  _ fuck _ are you saying?” Mouse yells out. “Babe, you gotta chill for a sec! Your head is all jacked!”

"Mirrors don't lie, Berkoshitz! Lucky for you, they can't laugh either!" She calls, cackling.

“Can we bench her?” I yell to AK.

“Absolutely not,” AK yells back. “She’s too good!”

Kelley sneaks up behind Berks and lets loose a horribly loud "BWERGHH!" 

It’s loud, even for her. Still, we’re back in play. Berks takes that faceoff. That’s fine. That’s perfectly fine. He passes it, and I go to interfere with it, but I don’t have to.

Raz steals the puck. He's a new fuckin' man, that's all I got to say. 

"Dump it in!" I scream. 

He makes it around the goal, passes it to me, and I deke, and shoot.

Sunburns for days. I don’t even know the score at this point. They haven’t gotten one past Mouse. Next faceoff, and I lose it again. Goddammit. 

I’m off my game. I shake out my hands. Berkowitz makes some sort of dumb chirp about my hands, but I don’t even hear him. We don’t have much time left, and I need to piss him off somehow. 

At any rate, I head towards the damn Ruskie, pushing past him to try to steal the puck. We're stuck behind the goal, fucking ping-ponging off the sides. 

Crockett's behind, ready to rescue me, and I don't know what he does after I pass the puck to him, because I'm slammed against the boards. 

I look up at the clock. We’ve run it out. We’re done. 

“Hell, yeah! Shutout! That’s my husband!” I cry, as I try to get up. 

Ah, yeah, there it is. There’s the hit. 

Berks, or, at least I think it’s Berks, just drives me hard into the boards, on my right side. I drop my stick. I don’t even have time to react. 

I think this is retaliation time. But where the fuck is everyone else—

I have just enough time to rip my gloves off, and then my helmet, before I see Kelley just pummeled by Bricks. 

_ Not fucking again. _

And then I’m slammed against the ice. My head smashes into the cold.

Shit. I’ve been here before. 

I just lay there for a second. The ice is deliciously cold.

I focus my eyes. There’s practically a wall of red, but they’re being attacked by a sea of green. I squint. Kelley, Mouse, Crockett, and Raz take on Bricks and Berks. 

I may be concussed, but it’s not a fair fight.

For the Ruskies.

Kelley's screaming as she's just punching left and right, and Crockett tackles a Ruskie to the ice, throwing a beautiful right hook. He looks up, looking to me.

I see double. I just feel excruciating pain in my side. He looks  _ horrified. _

He glances to the others, slams the Ruskie's head into the ice, then slides over to me. He’s talking to me, but my ears are just ringing. 

“Hey, N’awlins,” I say, but it’s almost a drawl. “Did we win?”

"Yeah, baby, we won," he says, and he's pale, pulling me by the shoulders, cradling my head, away from the fray.

"Kate, look at me, baby, look at me," he says.

“There are… too many of you,” I say, and then I hear yelling. I squint, trying to look. 

It’s  _ Hank. _

“Crockett,” I slur, “Why is Hank on the ice?”

Crockett reaches down, helping lift my head just a bit. "He's… he kicked Berks' knee out, he's cuffing him," he says, helping me look.

Kelley’s on her hands and knees, and I think I see blood on her lips like she’s bit someone, a bit like a rabid dog. Raz, he’s on his knees near her, cradling his own arm. Mouse looks relatively fine, but he holds a hand to his eye, like it’s gonna be black in the morning.

“Did Hank just say… aggravated assault and battery?” I ask Crockett, giggling.

"Yeah, baby, he did," he says, laying me back down, yanking off his jersey and slipping it under my head. He's yelling, and I hear the words, "Gallo," and "board," and I stare up at Crockett. 

"Kate, how many fingers?" He asks, holding up his hand.

I squint. “Six. No, three. Crockett, did we win?”

"We won, sweetheart, we won," he says, catching something out of the air, and then there's a bright light in my eyes. 

“Woah, nice catch there, buddy,” I giggle. “Oh, that’s bright. Is that bright for you?”

"Stay with me, Katie," he says, shouting to someone. "Kate," he grabs my hands, and I stare at my hands. "Squeeze both my hands, same time, okay?"

I try to move my arm, but I let out a cry. 

“Crockett, I’ve done it again!” I say, laughing. 

Crockett's face is white. "Kate, baby, come on, I need you to try again," he says. I struggle to move my arm, but I know my shoulder’s dislocated again. Still, I reach for his hands, and cringing, I squeeze. 

"Good, good job, honey," he says, and he's securing my arm across my chest. 

"Kate, talk to me," he calls urgently, and his voice is different.

“Crockett, what’s wrong?” I ask. I hear a yell from Mouse. Do I see Gallo? I’m not seeing much right now. “Hey. Hey, Hank got Berks, didn’t he?” I arch up, I try to move so I can see Kelley. “Kelley!” I cry. “Kelley, did we get Berks?!”

"Got him!" She screams back. 

Crockett's hand is on my face. 

“Kelley!” I yell. “You look like an absolute horror show! Oh, hey, Crockett!”

He looks horrified. "You need to stop yelling, kid," he says, saying something to Gallo. 

“I’m not yelling,” I say. “Gallo! Gallo, did you like the fight?!”

Crockett shakes his head at him, looking down to me. He wraps something around my neck, stiff and large.

“Welp, don’t like that,” I say, grabbing for it. 

"Gallo, grab her hands," Crockett says, trying to look down at me. He keeps falling back.

“Gallo,  _ do not _ grab my hands,” I growl. 

"Grab her hands, hold her good one, I'll restrap her bad arm," Crockett gasps. 

“Crockett, why are you so stressed out, I’m fine, God dammit,” I say, groaning, the pain in my side getting that much worse. 

"Kate, you are not fine," Crockett says, hand on my cheek. 

I look up at Crockett, and the tears of pain slip out of my eyes. 

“Crockett, I am not fine—”


	64. Doesn’t that make us a perfect pair?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crockett is in absolute panic as the unconscious Kate gets taken to Gaffney after their brutal fight with the West Town Ruskies. But between everyone receiving the care they need, Crockett makes a shocking discovery.

_ You should sit with me and we’ll start again _

**May 24, 2020** **  
** **1812 Hours** **  
** **Gaffney Chicago Medical Center** **  
** **Crockett**

I know Gallo called for the ambo. But that was ten minutes ago. It feels like an hour.

And then I see them. 

They're pulling the stretcher onto the ice, and Chrissy drops down beside me. 

"We've got her, Marcel, Dave, lift on three!" 

The two get Kate on the stretcher and then I'm running alongside. 

"Mouse," I yell. "I'm sorry, but I'm going with her!"

“No, dude, I’ll follow, I’ll follow,” he says. He’s frantically ripping Velcro as he ditches his pads. “You’ve got her, I know.”

I know Gallo got majority of my pads, and I'm alongside as Dave and Chrissy get Kate out the door. It's all I can do to try not to put weight on my knee, but I'll focus on that later. 

Kate's more important. 

"She's been out for-" I glance to my wrist, but my watch isn't there. I scan the ambo for a clock as they load her in. "Eight minutes, pulse 140, dislocated shoulder, looked like her side was hurting bad," I say, and Chrissy heads for the driver's seat, Dave taking his place beside Kate. 

I squeeze into the extra seat. 

I'm here to be with Kate. 

I need to let Dave do his job. 

"Marcel, you good?" 

"I'm fine, how's she doin'?" I ask, leaning forward again.

"Arm's immobilized, vitals are stable, need to get her in for a CT pronto, if it was that big of a knock," he says, looking up to me. "X-ray for sure."

I nod, staring at Kate. 

I pick up my phone, and I call the ED. 

I don't even pay attention who picks up. 

"This is Crockett Marcel, I'm incoming in Ambo 85, got a thirty-three year old female with a dislocated shoulder, head trauma, possible neck or spinal injury, and an unknown hit to her side."

_ “What the hell happened?” _ Will says. “ _ Shit, Marcel, did she get into a tilly again?’ _

"Forget tilly, Will, this was a fuckin' hell fight," I say, and Chrissy must've taken the corner a little fast, because I'm tossed into the wall of the ambo with a gasp.

_ “I’ll be ready,” _ he says sternly. “ _ We’ll get everyone. I don’t care. Sick of her comin’ in like this, Crockett.” _

"Same here, man," I say, glancing to where Dave's checking her airway. "Listen," I pull the phone away from my mouth. "Chrissy, how far out?" 

"Two minutes!" 

"We're two minutes out, Will, be ready. The rest are chasin' us, and they'll be in the door soon enough. Mouse, Tom, Kelley."

_ “If it was a hell of a tilly, how is everyone else?” _

"Hard to tell at a distance," I say. "Comin' around, Will, look alive!" 

I hang up, and I'm ready. 

Chrissy pulls to a rough stop, yanking the doors open.

Her and Dave get Kate out, and I jump out after. 

Bad idea. I half feel bad for grabbing onto Dave. 

I get up, and then I'm running alongside. 

We get in the door, and I meet Will's eyes. 

“You’re limping,” he says, barely looking at me. “What’ve we got?”

I repeat what I told him on the phone, and I'm just keeping my fingers on Kate's pulse. 

I emphasize the "head trauma" part. 

“We gotta get her to CT,” Will says, almost under his breath. “How long she been out?”

I check for a clock, and I squint. 

"Eighteen minutes. Will, warn CT, everyone clear out, I'm doin' an X-ray and shoulder and abdominal ultrasound, get ready to transport her right after. Let me do this. Let me just make sure she's not bleedin' anywhere internal."

I catch Will's arm. "Let me do this," I ask quietly.

He just nods, glancing down to Kate. “You got it. I’ve got CT.”

He heads off. I make eye contact with Natalie, and she gives me a look, but it fades when she sees the ED doors open. Mouse, Kelley, and Tom appears in various stages of bloodiness. 

Good. Like hell am I lettin' her touch Kate. 

I can limp my way to the portable x-ray machine, but it takes me a moment. 

Dislocated shoulder, nothing broken. 

I push it aside, and I have to lean on the wall for a second. 

I yank put the gel, spreading it over Kate's shoulder and stomach. I check her shoulder first, snapping put the pictures as I go so I can review them after. Should be able to just pop it back in. 

I glance down to her. She's still out, and that terrifies me. 

I move quicker, and I move to her stomach. 

No bleeding… wait. Wait. 

Okay, all good. 

I snap the pictures, and then I'm wiping the gel. 

"Will!" I call, and I'm starting to shake as I stand there, putting the machine away.

He hauls ass into the room, but he’s pushing one of the chairs from the nurse’s station.

“Sit,” he orders. 

"Angel," I say, pointing to him, and thank God I can sit. "No internal damage, go, go! Take her up to CT, I'll review these."

“Thank God,” Will mutters. “You’re the best. Glad… glad you were there.”

He takes her and suddenly, she’s gone. 

I sigh, leaning back, and even sitting down, my knee is killing me. 

I'm left alone, and I look at the pictures I'd snapped. 

This… 

My hand is on my mouth, and I'm laughing before I know what I'm doing. 

I can't resist looking up, and I whisper a "Thank you."

I slip the pictures into a file, and I start scooting myself out the door into the hallway. It is a painful task but a necessary one. 

I see Mouse come out of one of the treatment rooms. The black eye is already forming, and his fingers on his right hand are braced, but he peers at me, panicked. 

“How is she?”

I look up at him. I can't speak for a second. 

His face falls. 

* * *

**Mouse**

“Dude, you gotta tell me. How bad is it?”

"No internal bleeding. I don't know about her head yet. Will took her up to CT," he says. "Dislocated shoulder but Will can get that back in once she's done in the scan."

“Why… why’s your face like that. Crockett, do I look that bad?”

"No… no," he says, waving me off. "You're fine." He smiles up at me. 

“Oh, okay. Do you know… how long until she…”

He shakes his head. "Not sure yet, she… she just went up. Who worked on you, who's working on Kelley and Tom?"

“Oh, Will checked me out, I’m good,” I say. Crockett’s face is still weird, but okay. “Kelley’s with Will right now. I think Raz is with Dr. Manning.”

He growls. "Should save him." He starts pushing himself up, but the wheels are not helping.

I slip behind him. “Alright, brother, tell me where I’m goin’.”

He scans the ED. "Treatment…. Four. I think. Must save this boy."

I wheel him over, and I can’t resist the urge to go a little fast. 

Kate is fine. She’s gonna be fine. We’re all fine. I should probably find Hank….

I push him into the treatment room, and Raz perks up. 

“Dr. Marcel, I dislocated my shoulder!” He says, almost excitedly. 

Crockett smiles, then tries to hip-check Manning out of the way. "Scram, this is _ my _ brother." 

She just sighs, glaring at Crockett, before brushing past me.

“Hi, Mouse.”

“Long time, no see!” I chuckle. She just sighs. 

“Only you would mark time spent in the ED.”

She leaves, and I point at Crockett, still in his jersey, on the office chair, working on Raz. 

“He gonna be good?” I ask.

"Should be… fine…" he mutters. "Tom, any med allergies?"

“Uh, no, just bees.”

"Okay, bud, gonna give you a nerve block and pop this in, okay?" 

“Just peachy,” he says with a smile. “Hey, how are Kate and Kelley?”

“Kelley’s with Will,” I say. “Apparently on top of her concussion, and her eardrums, she’s officially got a broken jaw.”

Crockett glances up to me, surprised. 

"Just give the meds a minute to work," he says to Raz.

“A broken jaw?” Raz starts. He doesn’t even register Crockett. “Can she… will she be able to _ talk?” _

I shrug, glancing to Crockett. “Will said it was in just one place? I don’t know what that means.”

He sighs, his half-smile coming back. "She can still talk. Usually if it's just in one place it'll be sore as hell but she can talk."

“Lord,” I sigh, leaning into the door frame. “Two dislocated shoulders, a bunch of broken knuckles. A black eye. A broken jaw. Your knee is fucked up, bro. Whatever…. whatever Kate’s got goin’ on. We, uh, we should probably stop getting into tilts.”

Crockett nods, then swears. "Need to call Rae at some point." He turns to Raz. "I'm gonna move your arm around and pop it in. There'll be a lot less pain, but you'll feel it pulling. It's a really weird feeling."

“Rae and Evie are in the waiting room,” I say. “They came along after us. Actually, almost everyone is here. Sylvie may have called in the cavalry. Raz, that is gonna suck, stop smiling.”

“Hey, baby!” He calls out, and Kelley very nearly crashes into me.

"Hi," she says quietly. "You okay, honey?" she asks him.

“I dislocated my shoulder just like Kate!”

Crockett huffs. "Okay, gonna do it." 

He takes Raz's arm and wrenches it around, and it slips back with a loud 'click'. 

“Well, didn’t like that,” Raz says with a grin. “Kelley, you okay? I heard you broke your jaw!”

“And his knee needs looked at, do you all need to be in this treatment room?” Will says, pushing past me. “What am I saying, of course you do. Hey, Voight is looking for you,” he says to me. “Actually, all of you could probably hear this.”

“You good?” I ask Crockett, pointing to both him and Raz.

Crockett finishes up setting Raz's arm in a sling. "You're good, bud," he tells him, patting his back.

“Thanks, Dr. Marcel!” He hops off the bed and immediately goes to Kelley, pulling her off me and kissing her.

She giggles. "Ow."

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry, babe! Sorry! Sorry!”

She's still giggling. "It's okay, just not that hard." 

Crockett looks up to Will. "What did you give her?"

“Nothin’,” Will says. “That’s just… straight Kelley.”

She growls. "I ain't no straight Kelley. I'm a queer Kelley."

Raz’s face lights up. “There’s something about you I _ don’t _ know?!”

She giggles, nodding. 

Crockett sighs. "Well, now the boy is even more excited," he drawls. 

He drops his voice low, almost conspiratorially. “Are you… bi?”

Kelley squeals. "You caught me!"

Raz just looks at me with the biggest smile. 

“What? What’s your deal?”

“I didn’t just beat out 50 percent of the population, I beat out 100!” He says excitedly.

I groan. I don’t know if they’re following, but I head towards the waiting room. Hank and Jay are outside, waiting, and they almost rush me as I get there. 

“How is Kate?” Jay says quickly.

“Stable, will let you know,” I say. “What did you have to talk to us about?”

Hank's hands are deep in his pockets. 

He looks at me, looks at Raz, and then at Kelley, who's now trying to cling to Jay. 

"David Berkowitz is currently in custody for aggravated assault and battery. We're cruisin' for a Class 4 felony, since he has priors." He shrugs. "Worst case scenario, he's 25 grand and at least a year and a half short of his life. Best case scenario? Up to six years."

I just look at Hank, and then I realize I’m hugging him tight.

“Thank you. He keeps hurtin’ my girls.”

He just pats my back. 

Kelley's next, wobbling over and then grabbing onto him. "Thank you," she whispers. 

He nods, smiling at her, and at me.

“Mouse?” Crockett calls, and I see him on his little office chair. “Kate’s back.”

I can’t read his face. There’s a lot on it right now, and I’m nearly frozen. I only break when I see Rae run up to him, say something to him, and give him a long kiss. 

He nods to her, smiles, then looks back to me. "Come on."

I gesture with my head to Kelley and Raz. “You comin’?”

"Just you," Crockett says. "Kelley, Tom, stay there for now, okay?"

My blood runs cold. Oh God. If he just wants me, it’s bad. It’s bad, and I nearly stumble over my own feet. 

I get out of earshot, and I whisper to Crockett.

“How bad? How bad is it. Legally you have to tell me or its entrapment.”

Crockett just looks up at me, and yanks my hand. 

He turns to Kate, and he smiles. Kate, she… she looks a little dizzy, but that’s typical. I rush to her side. 

“Babe, you good?”

“Oh, I got hit,” she confirms. “I got hit hard.”

“How bad?” I finally ask, holding my breath.

"Grade two-three concussion," Crockett lists, reading off the chart. "Dislocated shoulder. Kate, need to ask you something, and this is related to the concussions I see on your file from before."

“Uh, what is it?” She says, glancing from me back to Crockett. The panic wells in my chest again.

"That headache and nausea, when did that all start? I know you've had it for a while." He doesn't look up from the file.

“About a month ago?” She says, “But it was after we were gone all weekend, I always get all fucked up. Plus, I hit a little hard on the ice that one time. And I got food poisoning a little while ago. What’s going on? Do you think I had another concussion I didn’t realize?”

He smiles at her, and his eyes are full. I can’t read his face. He’s… why the hell is he smiling? Why? 

“Brother, you gotta give me a hint about what’s going on. Is she gonna be okay? Can she play again? Why the hell are you smiling?”

I look at Kate, and the color just drains from her face. There’s a look of recognition.

Crockett shoves himself up out of the chair, leaning on the bed as he comes closer. He sits on the edge, taking Kate's hand and mine. He squeezes our hands. "When you came in," he says to Kate softly. "I ran an ultrasound. On your shoulder, and an abdominal. I found…" he takes a breath, and his smile widens. "I found a heartbeat. Two heartbeats."

Kate’s crying. Kate’s crying, and my mind is blank. 

“I’m sorry,” I squeak. “Can you just… say that again?” 

"You're pregnant, and you're probably at least 10 weeks along. Knowing you two… probably late February or… early March. You've got twins, guys," he says, smiling at us. "Twins."

The words flip through my brain like I’m trying to translate them. _ Pregnant. Twins. _ I clutch onto the side of the bed. I can’t breathe fast enough. The tears roll. I can’t even see. 

“Twins,” Kate just murmurs. “Twins.”

I just feel my knees give out.

Crockett reaches for me, and he lands on the floor with me. He pulls me into him. "Hey, Mouse, come on, look at me."

This was never supposed to happen. We… we barely even started trying. We were going to need help. I was so convinced we were going to need help. 

Twins. Twins, out of the gate. How? How the hell did we manage that? This was never in the cards for us. Never in the cards. 

I didn’t think we were ever capable of this.

_ Twins. _

I realize I’ve been talking to Crockett this entire time. 

He's holding me. 

"Mouse, Mouse, hey. Listen to me. You're gonna be a great dad," he whispers.

I’m still hyperventilating a little, but I pull myself to my feet, helping Crockett up. I’m so dizzy. I’m so dizzy, but I go back to Kate. I take her hand in mine. 

She’s shaking. She’s bawling. 

I touch her face, and I kiss her. I don't even know what to do. I know we’ve talked about this. I know. But I refuse to let her go, sliding my hand behind her neck, under her hair, just making sure she can’t leave. I kiss her like we’ve been waiting four years for this.

When I finally let her go, she starts laughing. 

“You!” She cries, almost accusingly. “You put two babies inside me at once!”

She’s bawling, and she’s laughing, and she’s battered and bruised, and God, is she beautiful. 

“Babe, I’ll do whatever you need,” I say, her hand on my face, the other resting on my chest. I cover her hand in mine. “I’ll do whatever. Babe, I’ll run all your drills.”

“You’re gonna have to!” She laughs. “I’m gonna be toddlin’ around in camo!”

Crockett snorts. "I swear you run any damn courses, I'll have your head on a stick."

For the first time since the news, she groans. “Oh, no! Crockett! You’re not gonna let me play anymore!”

"No, I am not."

She points at him accusingly. “You know what you have to do.”

"Do I?" He hums, fitting the crutches under his arms, smiling at her.

“You… you gotta play center. You can’t leave my Valentines hangin’. You’re a ringer, ‘Kett. You gotta. You can’t leave my team hanging.”

“You just found out you’re pregnant with _ twins _, and that’s the first thing you think of?” I say, running my hand through my hair. Oh, my God, saying it out loud. Pregnant with twins. 

That panic wells again. “I need to get some air, or something,” I say to Crockett. “Can you, I don’t know, call for Raz or something? He’s the only one who’s not gonna ask questions, and I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kate whispers. 

I’m near full blown panic at this point, my head spinning. 

“Raz!” I cry out, “Come sit with Kate, okay?”

He’s jogging through the ED doors, grinning, and I just point. I point at the room, and I see Kelley, and Hank, and Jay and Rae and Will all looking concerned, but I just have to go for a second. I don’t know what hallway I’m in, all I know is that it’s empty.

"Mouse!" I can hear Crockett call. He comes around the corner, panting. "I can't chase you on crutches, man." 

I slam into the wall, running my hands through my hair again.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I say, muttering to myself. I don’t know if Crockett can even hear me. It doesn’t matter. “I don’t think I can do this. I don’t… twins. Twins? Really?” I look up. “Twins? Seriously? Twins. Me. Me and Kate. Twins. I… I don’t know if I can do this.”

His hands touch my shoulders. "Mouse."

I just fall into him. I’m crying, I’m hyperventilating. I can’t stop.

“I was supposed to die,” I say. “I wasn’t supposed… this wasn’t… I… I… I’m married, and have twins on the way.This wasn’t supposed to happen, Crockett. This wasn’t supposed to….”

He holds me, his hand rubbing my back. "It didn't happen the way you thought it was supposed to. But it happened the way it should," he whispers. His hand keeps circling my back. "And you're here. You're gonna be an amazing dad."

“Dad,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

He takes a shaky breath, and he kisses my forehead. "Listen, I've gotta say somethin', so hear me out," he whispers.

“I’m literally three steps into a panic attack, dude, whatever you can say to help me out is gonna be great, thanks,” I mutter.

He hushes me gently, and he just holds me for a moment. "You're gonna rock this, Greg. You're gonna get through this with her, and you're gonna be a father. There is _ nothing _more special than being a dad, okay? But promise me this. Promise me that you will take each moment as it comes. Promise me you will hold on to each damn second of it. Understand? Every damn moment. You remember them through your life, through everything. I'm serious." He takes a shaky breath, brushing back my hair. "God knows, Kate knows," he says under his breath, so quiet. "You're gonna be such an amazing dad," he says, full volume. "I'm proud of you two."

It’s a lot to process, but I can think about it later. It’s all I can do to just hold onto him. 

I pull him into my embrace. 

“You know, I don’t even have to talk to Kate about this, but you’re gonna be a godfather. We’ve got two,” I chuckle, still clutching onto him.

He takes another breath, and he holds me a bit tighter.

“I told you before, I’m gonna tell you again. We’re gonna need you. We’re gonna need you and Will, specifically. She’s gonna be a basket case. We’re both gonna be basket cases. We’re dumb when it comes to this shit. We… we’ve always known how to destroy. We don’t always know how to… how to build.”

"Then I am right beside you," he whispers. "Every step of the way."

I finally pull myself from his embrace and look around the hallway. I remember this. I remember this hallway. It’s the same one that Jay took me to after St. Boniface. It’s the same one where he told me not to go down that dark path again. It’s the same one where I decided I had to re-enlist. 

I remember thinking that one same thought.

It all depends on Kate. It always depended on Kate. 

* * *

**Crockett**

Mouse clutches onto me tightly, but his grip starts to fade as he breathes normally again.

“So, what do we do?” He asks, still looking like hell. “Do we… is it okay to tell people? They’re gonna… they’re gonna want to know what’s taking so long.”

I nod. "Yeah, you can tell people," I say softly, brushing his hair from his eyes again. 

“I need to gather everyone,” he says. “They... can Kate come to the waiting room? Everyone…” his shoulders seem to fall. “Everyone’s out there,” he says with a smirk.

I smile. "I'll find her a wheelchair. Will or you needs to push her, I can't."

“Oh, my God, Will, and Jay, and Kelley…” He lets out a heavy breath, and he leans against the wall again, closing his eyes.

"Hey, hey, you good?" 

“Twins, man!” He squeaks. This time, he sounds excited. “Twins!”

I chuckle. "Hey, do… almost everyone's out there. Is it… do you want me to page Dr. Charles down too?"

“For the love of God, yes,” he says emphatically. “I’m gonna need him. Aw, hell, we’re both gonna need him. Jesus. Twins,” he just mutters, finally pulling from my embrace. He starts wandering towards Kate’s room again. 

I chuckle again, and I start following him, navigating through my pager until I find Dr. Charles. I hit send. I find a wheelchair, lugging it into the room. 

"Mouse, can you help her? I don't know how much I can," I say, shooting him what I hope is an apologetic smile. 

He just nods, and gingerly helps Kate into the wheelchair with Tom’s help.

“You all good?” Tom asks quietly. “Kate won’t tell me.”

“Don’t worry,” Mouse says. “You’ll find out soon.”

She gives me a wide eyed look.

“You think this is okay?” She says, almost breathlessly. “We should do this? Right now?”

I nod. "I think it's a good idea. God knows we all need some hope."

Mouse just pushes her past, towards the ED doors, and I see the congregation. 

It’s _ massive _. I don’t know who started the phone tree, but the waiting room is packed. Rae and Evie stand near the front, and Rae gives me a wide eyed look as she scans me and my crutches. Will stands, talking to Jay and Hank, but some of the rest of Intelligence fall in behind. Tom and Kelley mill about with the members of Firehouse 51. The North Side Valentines seems to mix in between.

It really is everyone. Everyone fell in to check on us. 

It’s almost overwhelming. 

Dr. Charles drops a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, what did you need?”

"Needed you here, Kate and Mouse have news," I say softly, smiling at him. I readjust on the crutches so I can look around.

“What?” he says, and then he draws a breath. “It’s happening.”

Mouse clears his throat, and the din of the room continues. 

Kate lets out a loud ‘hey!’ 

And they pay attention. Go figure.

The silence makes Mouse almost collapse into the wheelchair, but he grabs on, finding his balance.

“I’m good!” Kate calls to the group, looking around. “Lord, is everyone I’ve ever known and loved here?”

"More or less!" Kelley giggles, trying to hold her mouth shut, flashing a thumbs up.

“Oh, well, uh, we were told this was okay to do,” he says, nodding his head towards me. “Kate is fine. We’re all fine, actually.” He pauses to collect himself.

In typical Kate manner, though, she can’t stop.

“The twins are fine, too.”

"The… the _ twins? _ Kate, Gerwitz, _ what?" _

Hank Voight steps forwards, eyes on us, and there's hope in his face.

“We’re pregnant,” Mouse confirms with a grin. “Yeah, Hank. This is happening.”

He doesn't stop, he comes forward, and I watch him, in front of everyone, kneel down by Kate and kiss her cheek. She touches a hand to his face and just… smiles. She smiles. And it’s a wide smile. 

And then the crowd _ roars. _Will and Jay, they both just look shocked. They look completely shocked, and then after a moment, I hear the argument.

“It doesn’t count,” Jay says. 

“Yes, it does. They’re pregnant,” Will retorts. 

“The bet was with _ one _ baby, not _ two!” _

“You still owe me a hundred bucks!”

They’re both cut off when Mouse just attacks them in a Gerwitz-Halstead hug. 

“Did you know?” I hear Rae’s voice. “Are you the one…?”

Evie looks like she wants to hug me, but she’s hesitant. “Crockett, are you okay?”

"I'm brilliant, honey," I say. "I'll be slow and sore for a long time, but I'm great." I look to Rae. "Yeah, I found out when she came in," I say softly.

She pulls me into a kiss. It’s hard, and it’s long, and eventually, she pulls away, almost angrily. “You shouldn’t have put yourself into that situation,” she says sternly. “But two things. One, it was incredibly hot, and two, Kate and Mouse…” she drifts. “I’m glad it was you. I’m glad they have you.”

"I'm glad too. What situation?" I ask innocently. I smile down to Evie, shifting my one crutch to the other side so I can reach for her. She very, very carefully comes into my embrace. 

“Crockett, the _ fight! _” She cries. “You got into a fight! It was awesome!” She almost growls that last word. “I wanna play hockey!”

"Ask your mother, darlin'," I chuckle. I look around. 

I glance to Dr. Charles, and I smile when I see the look on his face. He hasn’t moved. He’s almost frozen, a smile on his face, a look of disbelief in his eyes. 

Kelley's hanging off Tom and Blake, and she's leaning back onto Ritter. She's beaming at Kate and Mouse, and she's almost bawling. 

Tom looks absolutely giddy. He tries to speak to the two of them, but instead, it’s all he can do to hug Mouse. It’s almost desperate, as he still clutches to Kelley, but he manages. 

“Whatever you need,” Darren says, and Kate just reaches her hand out to his. It’s so pure, and so kind, and Kate starts crying again.

Blake reaches forward, kissing Kate's cheek. "Whenever you need."

“Both of you,” she says, almost accusingly. “You are not to teach my children bad things. You!” She points at Kelley and Tom. “Same to you! Nothing bad! Only good!”

Kelley nods, and Blake salutes her. "Yes ma'am! We'll teach them _ proper _climbing techniques!"

“No!” Kate yells, and Mouse just throws his head back in laughter. And then I see him pull aside Kelley. Just a few steps away, holding her close. He puts his hand on her cheek, and I can’t read his lips, but I imagine I know what he’s saying. 

The tears are back in his eyes, and then he pulls her into a hug. One of those good Mouse hugs. Ones that you yearn for.

I smile. I can't do anything else, except look back to Kate, and I see Sylvie move closer to Kate. Sylvie is just straight bawling. She waves a hand in front of her face, like she wants to say something, but Kate just gets to her feet shakily and throws a hug around Sylvie.

I can't stop smiling. Definitely going to be pulling her in to help. She's part of this small support chain I'm gonna pull together. An unofficial care team, as it were. 

And then I see Severide, supporting a shaky Herrmann. They're moving slowly, and Herrmann looks so exhausted, but so excited. They finally stand in front of Kate, and Herrmann reaches out slowly to Kate, Severide holding him steady.

I can see Herrmann's smile and tears from here.

“Don’t do this to me, Herrmann,” Kate says, her voice just as shaky. “Don’t do this.”

He just hangs onto her. "I'm so proud of you," he says, voice thick with emotion. "So proud of both of you." 

She’s still on her feet, and suddenly, she looks like she’s existing on eggshells. Not in a bad way. I’ve just never seen Kate function like this. She’s… she’s careful, for the first time in her life. 

“You boys are gonna be on speed dial, alright?” She says. “Literally… especially you, Herrmann,” She says accusingly. “You and your fourteen kids.”

"Naw, I got more than that. I got so many of 'em," he says, looking at her with joy. I know he's a father -- to more than just his own children. But he almost quakes, his hand shaking as he wipes a tear from his face. 

And then Severide steps up, a look on his face like he knows what he's supposed to do. He catches her eye, and then he's hugging her. 

And then he slips a small card into her hands as he lets go of her. "Call me if you need anything."

She clutches to him so tightly, I don’t immediately see her reach out and grab Cruz’s hand. She clutches the two of them, almost sobbing into them. It’s like something triggered, and she just… cries. 

Severide and Cruz hold her, and I’m not sure why. 

But it means something to Kate. When they step aside, and it’s just Mouse and Kate for a moment, they share a long look. That is, until Will and Jay interrupt.

“So, uh, remember who made this all happen, yeah?” Jay says, pointing at himself. Will pushes him a little. 

“What he’s saying is, we’re excited to be uncles.”

“Twice. Remember. Uncles twice,” Mouse says, holding up two fingers.

“Knocked it out of the park, dude!” Jay says, hugging Mouse. Will just steadies Kate with a hand on her waist. 

“Seriously,” Will says, holding onto Kate tightly. “We’re happy for you two.”

“Gonna be four,” she says, half hysterical, half excited. When Will kisses her on the cheek and heads back into the ED, I realize the room has begun to clear. She just looks around, and she sees me, lingering. She gives me another smile, and then realizes Dr. Charles is still… just seemingly in shock. 

“Dr. Charles?” She says, leaning on the wheelchair. “Dr. Charles, are you okay?”

He breaks from his thoughts. “Kate, I… I should be asking you that question,” he says, approaching her. And he pulls her into a hug that makes her almost… existentially sigh. She grasps onto his white coat like it’s a lifeline, burying her face in his chest. 

I don’t hear what she says, but I can hear him stutter out a response.

‘Y-you’re welcome, Kate. You’re so very welcome. I… this wasn’t me. This was all you and Greg.”

“No, no,” she says, wiping her eyes with her hands. Her makeup is just everywhere at this point. “I wouldn’t… he wouldn’t… we wouldn’t…” She sighs, unable to finish her words. “Thank you. You have no idea.”

“I think I have a tiny bit of any idea.”

She giggles, and she kisses him on the cheek. He just shakes Mouse’s hand before clasping a hand on his shoulder and heading back into the hospital. 

And then it’s Hank. He just lingers, besides me, besides Rae and Evie, and Kelley and Raz, he’s the last one. 

I dare not interrupt the man.

He steps forward again, standing in front of Kate and Mouse, his stoic face just barely breaking into the touch of a smile. It's barely there, sure, but it's there, and that's what matters.

"I wondered at the wedding how long it would be," he says gruffly, but it's… it's soft, too. "I can't imagine not having you two around, and I… it'll be nice having… having kids around again," he finishes quietly. "Especially yours."

“They’re gonna be insane,” Mouse stage-whispers to Hank.

“Hellions, even,” Kate offers.

“You gonna be up for that?” Mouse retorts.

“You and Dr. Charles are like, the grandpa heir-apparents, anyway,” Kate says, and she’s already wiping tears again. 

He chuckles, and his own eyes are wet. 

"I'm up for it. God, I'm up for it." He touches Kate's cheek, smiling unabashedly at her. He looks to Mouse with the same smile, and a hand on his cheek.

"My kids," he says simply.

She brushes a quick kiss on his cheek, and after a beat, he turns and leaves the hospital, alone. 

Kate sinks down into the wheelchair finally and she just… breathes. It’s a calm breath. It’s a breath of readiness, like she just realized the next chapter was about to begin, and she decided she was ready. 

Kelley inches forwards again, and she reaches to hug Kate. She just hangs onto her.

"I was your practice kid. You aced it with me, so the universe decided to level you up, my dudes," she says softly, looking at Kate and Mouse. "Hopefully not blond."

“Oh, it’s definitely gonna be a level up,” Kate scoffs, but it’s kind. It’s weighted. Mouse, he drops a kiss on her shoulder and whispers something in her ear. 

“Swear to God, Kelley, you better not teach my children shit,” Kate mutters.

“I’ll let you teach them the fun stuff,” Mouse says with a grin.

Kelley gets up gently, and she salutes both of them, reaching for Tom as she wobbles. "Sir, ma'am, message received!"

He just wraps his good arm around her. “I think I should get her home. She’s coming home with me,” he says, pointing at me. “FYI, Dr. Crockett! Marcel!” He sighs, almost frustrated at himself. 

I just beam at him. "Call a cab. Last thing I need is you two ending back up here."

He just grins, holds up his phone. “Already got an Uber!” 

I kiss Kelley's cheek. "I love you," I whisper, and she wraps her arms around me. "Love you too, 'Kett. Let me know if you need help?" 

"I will." I step back and for a change, I kiss Tommy's forehead too. "You're a good man, Rasmussen."

He just grins. “You are too. Thanks for fixin’ me up!”

"Anytime, now shoo, you two!" 

They head out of the ED as Rae and Evie step up to me. 

“We’re gonna head home,” she says, kissing me. “If you wanna stop by, we’re gonna get some food, okay?”

Evie circles us, and she’s miming playing hockey. 

Rae just points mock-angrily at me. “This is your fault.”

"I'll take it," I say, reaching for Evie and kissing her forehead. 

“Love you!” She calls out, bouncing towards the ED doors. 

“Let me know when you’re coming, okay?” Rae says, kissing me once more and following Evie out. 

I let out a sigh, watching them go, and then I hear Mouse whispering quietly to Kate.

“Crockett… he said something about—about being a dad, and that you know. Something about you knowing.”

She clutches onto his arm, and she just looks down at the floor, chuckling once. 

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” is all she says. 

“That’s fine,” Mouse murmurs, running his fingers under her eyes, fixing her makeup. It’s an intimate moment, one I’m not sure I’m supposed to see. Maybe I am. She just holds onto him, and I see it. That look. That life raft in the hurricane. They hold onto each other. 

But Kate knows. She knows what she’s supposed to know. Someday, someday soon, I hope, I’ll confide in Mouse. When he needs to hear it the most. 

He just pulls her into another kiss. I see a content smile. An easy happiness. 

I haven’t seen that, not this much, in a long time. 

I realize something. Something fundamental. 

They almost missed this. We almost all missed this. And now Kelley is deeply in love with a sweet, sweet man. I’ve found… I’ve found the family I’ve always been searching for. 

I don’t even realize the tears until one hits my lip. The sudden saltiness surprises me, and this time, I just wipe the tears away. 

I watch them, feeling nothing but love and gratitude that they’re here. That we’re here. 

We’re all living. 

I can’t believe we all made it this far.

**Author's Note:**

> Strap in, folks. Joy and I have joined forces, and we have no intention of slowing down. This is our life now.


End file.
